


Second Chances are Stronger than Secrets

by ThiefofWords



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Borderline Personality Disorder, Character Death In Dream, Death, Drama, Existential Crisis, Explicit Language, Graphic Description, Hate Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Instability, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Psychological Horror, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 78,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThiefofWords/pseuds/ThiefofWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a lot to be the bigger person, especially when it involves having to actually TALK to your most hated enemy... but unfortunately for Heiwajima Shizuo, sometimes you just have to suck it up and do it anyway. He can only hope it'll be worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! To those of you reading this for the first time: welcome! To those reading for a second, third, or (dare I say) fourth time: welcome back! This story has been a very important coping mechanism for me, and I love writing it and reading your guys’s comments. Unfortunately for me, I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; I tend to reread chapters over and over again, editing and un-editing and then re-editing whenever something looks off to me -- which is often. This takes a lot of time away from writing new chapters, because when you’re re-reading your own fanfiction in order to “freshen your memory” every time you want to write a new chapter, it can get a little overwhelming.  
> In any case, I will be going over my fanfiction _one_ last time to try and correct any mistakes I might have missed. After that, if there’s a typo or other kind of error, I won’t know unless you guys mention it in a comment.   
>  Anyway…. Enjoy!

\------------- 

_“Because this is what I believe - that second chances are stronger than secrets. You can let secrets go. But a second chance? You don't let that pass you by.”_

― Daisy Whitney, When You Were Here  
\-------------  
Shizuo and Izaya's fights are nothing new. Shinra's been experiencing them for approximately a decade; the two clashed from the start, their first meeting ending with his stunned yet amused teenage self watching the laughing brunette lead the angry blonde right into oncoming traffic. If he had 500 yen for every time he's had to dodge a flying object, he'd have enough money to take his darling Celty on an extravagant dream getaway -- maybe to some remote tropical paradise (it would give him a chance to see her in a swimsuit). Luckily for him, the lovestruck doctor is able to to pull himself out of his island fantasy just in time to notice the coffee table being hurled in his general direction. He shuts his eyes, bracing himself for impact...

_This is it. This is how I die. Goodbye, Celty... I only wish I could have embraced you one last time._

He's barely finished the thought when shadowy tendrils wrap around his body and yank him back to safety, the coffee table continuing its path _right_ towards a smiling Izaya -- who easily dances out of the way (with all the grace and smugness of a haughty housecat), much to Shizuo's displeasure.

"Celtyyyyyyyy! You saved me!” Shinra announces, his eyes shining. “As my reward, how about I give you a biiiiiiig hu--" He's pushed away before he can even get close, the dullahan’s PDA screen shoved into his face. 

[How did this happen?!]

"Ah! Well, you see, it was like this--"

There's a loud crash when the coffee table finds his living room wall, and he can't help but outwardly cringe. "That's going to be expensive to fix..."

If Celty could have sighed, she would have. [I'll try to put a stop to this before they cause any more damage. You owe me an explanation.]

"Of course, of course!" He smiles, watching as she slips the PDA back into her sleeve and heads towards the chaos. There isn't really much to explain, honestly; Shizuo had come over to get an injury taken care of, and then Izaya had shown up and refused to come back later when there _wasn’t_ a hot-head with super-strength sitting on his couch. It had devolved into violence pretty much immediately (to no one's surprise). 

_Why does Orihara-kun always have to provoke him? Couldn't he at least have waited until they were outside? I don't have enough money to pay for this much property damage! Maybe I should make Orihara-kun cover it, it is partially his fault, after all..._

Another large crash startles Shinra out of his thoughts, and he quickly snaps his attention back to his friends and the love of his life. What he sees causes his blood to run cold.

"Celty?"

The Dullahan is on the ground, blanketed in a good chunk of the ceiling. The dining room table lies in pieces around her, but Shinra is less concerned about that then he is about the debris his lover is currently trapped under; he rushes over and starts to dig her out, motioning for Shizuo to come help him.

"Celty, are you okay?! Celty!"

She waves her hand at him as if in agreement, inky black shadows spilling from her neck as the magical energy swells and pushes at the rubble on top of her. It doesn't take long for her to free herself and grope around for her PDA. [I'm fine! I'm not hurt at all.]

Shinra doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he lets it out, relieved and feeling a little silly for even worrying. This is his Celty, after all... she's not exactly fragile. 

_But I've had enough._

He catches Izaya's eyes and points to the door, a smile forced onto his face. _"Out."_ He can deal with the property damage, the shouting, and the constant fear for his life. But getting Celty caught in the middle of it? That’s where he draws the line. _"Now."_

\-------------


	2. Metaphorically Speaking

_Well, I've really done it this time._

Shizuo sighs and leans against the back of the couch. Celty and Shinra are talking in the bedroom; he can hear Shinra's voice raise every now and then, and that worries him. Unlike himself, the doctor has never been the type to anger easily. 

_I fucked up._

He hadn't intended to hurt Celty -- he hadn't _wanted_ to hurt Celty -- but that damn flea always seems to know exactly how to push his buttons, exactly how to get him to lose control, exactly how to bring out the "beast" he likes to claim he is; just smelling the other man is enough to put Shizuo on the verge of frenzy, and every time he actually _sees_ the annoying little bastard, the only thing he can ever think about is how goddamn good it’d feel to just grab him by the throat, shove him up against a wall, and-- 

He lets out a frustrated groan and runs his hands through his hair, staring up at the ceiling as if hoping it’ll distract him from the thoughts currently swirling around his head. Allowing Izaya to get to him is what caused this mess in the first place -- he _reaaally_ doesn't need to make things worse by continuing to obsess over it.

_They might never forgive me for this._

The sounds of a door opening and footsteps heading his direction tells him that they've finished their conversation and are on their way to have one with him; there's no telling what they had discussed, _or_ what they had decided. Is this it for their friendship? Has he finally crossed a line? Is there anything he can do to fix it? He starts to get up when he sees Shinra's face pop into sight, but the other man holds up a hand to stop him. 

"We need to talk." 

Yeah, he figured. "Yeah, I figured." 

The two settle down across from him; Shizuo can tell they're unhappy, he just can't tell how much. He does have a pretty strong hunch that he's about to find out, though. 

"Shizuo-kun..." Shinra starts, rubbing his temple. "This thing you guys do? It needs to stop." 

"Don't you think I want it to?" He asks, offended. Does Shinra honestly think he enjoys this? Enjoys fighting? "Look, it ain’t my fault the fucking flea won't leave me alone!" 

"But you're not entirely blameless, either." 

"Wait, are you tryin’ to say that this _is_ my fault?" Shizuo can barely believe what he's hearing. “Are you fucking shitting me right now?” 

"I'm _saying_ that you could ignore him. You could pretend he doesn't exist... you could do something, _anything_ other than allow him to goad you, but you don't. Instead, you do _exactly_ what he wants you to do… _every single time.”_

Shizuo scowls. "Ignoring him wouldn't do shit, Shinra -- he'd just find new ways to ruin my life for no good goddamn reason." There is not a single thing he can think of that might be able to get the flea off his back -- other than outright killing him, of course, which would be a lot easier if the little shit wasn’t so goddamn fucking _fast._

"Then... I don't know, try something different." 

_Something different? Like what?_

What can he possibly try that he hasn't already tried before? 

"That's easier said than done, Shinra. What the fuck else is there?" 

"Hmm..." Shinra frowns. The other man isn't exactly wrong; knowing Izaya, ignoring him actually _could_ end up causing the situation to escalate further -- and that’s the _last_ thing he wants to do -- the problem is, he’s having a harding time thinking of any other options. Violence most likely isn’t the answer (if it hasn’t worked yet, it mostly likely never will), but he highly doubts he can just go up to Izaya and ask him nicely to 'please stop harassing Shizuo-kun’; the informant keeps a pretty tight hold on his grudges, and isn't likely to let go of _this_ particular one anytime soon. His bitterness towards Shizuo has been festering since high school, like a wound left untreated… sometimes Shinra wonders if things might have been different if Shizuo had just given him a chance instead of rejecting him outright.

_Wait a second… I wonder…_

There's a long pause as the beginning of a plan starts to form in his head. It's a long-shot, one more likely to blow up in his face than actually do much good... but if he can somehow convince Shizuo to agree to it, if he can somehow get it to _work_ \-- it could change _everything._ "...I'm curious." He begins, leaning forward in his seat. "How far are you willing to go to put an end to this?" 

"As far as I need to, probably. Why? Do you have an idea?" The thought of being able to put a stop to the hell Izaya seems determined to put him through sounds too good to be true, but if there's even the _slightest_ chance he can get the flea off his back, then he has no excuse not to take it. 

"Well... yes." Shinra takes a deep breath. "I do. However... you're probably not going to like it very much." 

_Or at all…_

"Great..." The blonde mutters, not sure he really wants to know but feeling too guilty not to at least hear his friend out. After all, if it had been anyone other than Celty... if it had been _Shinra..._ well, he'd rather not think about it. "What is it?" 

"Okay." Shinra shifts into a more comfortable position, his brain already working on finding the right words to say. He can't afford to rush this; he has to broach the subject gently, start off small. "So. Say there is a little boy, around four or five years old. He's a pretty normal little boy, with a normal life and normal feelings. One day, he's at the store with his mother and he sees something -- maybe a toy, or a piece of candy -- that he really, really wants. So he asks his mother if she’ll buy it for him." 

The change in topic catches Shizuo off-guard. "Wait, what? What the hell does this have to do with anything?" 

[I'm a little confused, too...] Celty admits. 

"Just bear with me for a moment, alright? I have a point." 

"Which is?" Shizuo asks, crossing his arms. 

"Maybe if you stopped interrupting me, you'd find out." Shinra remarks, giving him a pointed look. When it's made clear he's not going to be interrupted again, he continues on. "Anyway, the little boy is told no. He's understandably upset, and he wants to cry and scream and throw a tantrum -- and perhaps he even does -- but in the end, he gets over it and moves on with his life. Now, let's say that when the little boy is a bit older, he meets another little boy that he wants to be friends with. Unfortunately, the other little boy doesn't seem to want to be friends with _him_ , and he tells him such. Again, the first little boy is understandably upset... but he's been denied things before, so he knows that it's not the end of the world. Just like with the toy at the store, he’s able to get over the rejection and move on. Are you following me so far?" 

[I think so?] 

"I guess so." 

"Excellent! Now, moving on." Shinra pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Say there’s _another_ little boy at the same store that wants the same toy. This boy, however, is a bit of a scaredy-cat. He doesn't want to ask for the toy, because he doesn't know how his mother might respond." 

"Sounds like a personal problem." Shizuo grumbles. 

Shinra pretends he doesn’t hear the retort. "Because he doesn't ask for the toy, he doesn't get told no. And because he doesn't get told no, he doesn't get hurt. Because he doesn't get hurt, he doesn't get upset, and because he doesn't get upset, he doesn't learn basic coping skills. Still following?" 

While Shizuo simply mumbles a noncommittal "sure", Celty responds with a much more confident [Yes! I think I am!] She's fairly certain that she's figured out what Shinra is trying to get at. [Please continue.] 

"When the second little boy gets older, he _also_ finds a little boy he wants to be friends with, only _he_ doesn't have the confidence to approach him himself. He gets a mutual friend to introduce them, and when they finally meet, he finds out that the other boy doesn't want to be his friend. Now remember, the second little boy never asked for the toy. How big a difference do you think that makes?" 

"How the hell should I know? I'm not a psychiatrist." He still has no idea what this has to do with him and the flea, and he’s starting to get impatient. 

"Neither am I. Can you at least try to answer the question?" 

_"Fine."_ He surrenders, despite his growing exasperation. He doesn't think there's any point to this, and he's really starting to wish he could just go home, but sometimes Shinra can be pretty damn stubborn and he doesn't have the energy or willpower to argue. "The second boy never learned how to deal with that sort of thing." 

Shinra grins. Now they're getting somewhere. "Exactly. So what do you think he'd do?" 

"What most kids do when they don't get their way, I guess." 

"Which is?" 

"Lash out." 

"Do you think he'd blame the other boy for rejecting him?" 

"Yeah, I guess so." 

"Do you think he'd take it out on him?" 

"...." 

"Do you think he--" 

"Why does it matter what I think?" Shizuo snaps suddenly, causing both Shinra and Celty to flinch. This conversation is really starting to piss him off; there are too many questions, too many metaphors, and why the hell should he care about some emotionally stunted pipsqueak anyway? 

[Shizuo, please calm down...] 

"Why? Why should I?" Shizuo stands up, his fists trembling. He can feel the familiar rage begin to well up inside him, and it's all he can do not to start shouting at them. So the kid got rejected? Big deal! Is he supposed to feel sorry for him? Sympathize with him? Pity him? "So what if the kid blames him?! So what if he feels hurt, or angry, or whatever the fuck else? Does that give him a free pass to do whatever he wants?" 

"What? No, of course not, I never said--” 

“No, but you were damn well implying it!" Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out. He can't afford to lose it again-- he needs to cool down before he does something _else_ he'll regret. 

"We're not implying anything, Shizuo-kun." Shinra states softly. It's obvious that he's upset the other man, which (while not his intention) tells him that he might finally be starting to understand what the story is really about -- though whether he's _aware_ of that, Shinra still isn't quite sure. "We're just saying that some people may feel that their actions are... _justified_... because of an emotional wound they received when they were younger that hasn't had a chance to heal." 

"So what is the other boy supposed to do about it? _Apologize?"_ He practically spits the last word out; if Shinra is insinuating what he thinks he's insinuating, then he’s crazier than he thought. 

"Or just _talk_ to him!" 

"About _what?!_ What could they _possibly_ have to talk about?!" 

"I don't know Shizuo-kun, because _you_ never bothered to find out!" Shinra is out of his seat now too, his own fists clenched and shaking with a little bit of fear and a _lot_ of frustration. Celty looks frantically between them, on edge but ready to interfere if necessary; she's not sure she'll be able to take on Shizuo by herself, but if push comes to shove... 

_If I let him hurt Shinra, I'd never forgive myself._

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"It _means_ that maybe if you'd bothered to give Orihara-kun a _chance_ before deciding you didn't like him, you might not be in this situation!" 

"So _what,_ Shinra?! I'm just supposed to _forget_ the fact that he's been ruining my life for ten fucking years?!" 

" _No! You're **supposed** to get the hell over it!"_

"Get the hell over it? _Get the hell **over** it?!"_ He can feel his control slipping, feel his fingers twitching and his forehead throbbing. Everything is warm and red and he's _pissed._ He's so. Fucking. Pissed. "Why the _fuck_ should I 'get the hell over it?' He's made my life a living hell! He's tried to frame me for murder, he sent a stalker after my brother, he's gotten me fired from multiple jobs, _and_ he wants me _dead._ Dead, Shinra! Why the fuck shouldn't _he_ be the one to just, _'get the hell over it?'"_

_"Because you're not a coward like he is, Shizuo!"_ The silence that follows his outburst is deafening; Shinra can feel his heart beating triple-time, it having been a long time since he's yelled at anyone like that -- but he ran out of patience a long time ago, and if that meant shouting in the face of a man who could probably punch him into the stratosphere... 

...but no punch came, or object hurled. Instead, Shizuo simply turns and starts walking towards the front entryway, leaving Shinra staring after him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth not unlike that of a fish. "Wait, you're just going to leave?" 

"I need a cigarette." 

"You're coming back, right?" 

"I don't know, maybe?" 

_"Maybe?"_

"I need some time, okay! I need to think!" His head feels like a whirlpool, spinning and swirling with emotions he thought he'd left behind in high school. This is ridiculous. This is insane! _Talk_ to Orihara Izaya? Give him a _chance?_ After years of torment, years of frustration, years of chasing that annoying flea's ass out of _his_ Ikebukuro just for the fucker to show up again a week later with that smug smirk on his face like he was mocking him, _daring_ him to _'come get it, Shizu-chan--'_

"--and a drink wouldn't hurt, either." He mumbles to himself, before yanking open the door and stepping into the crisp night air.


	3. It's a Crisis

"Come on, damn it -- _work!"_ Shizuo hisses at his lighter, trying (and failing) to get it to ignite for what seems like the thousandth time. It was breezy at _most_ when he’d left Shinra's apartment, but it's started sprinkling since then and the wind has picked up considerably. Understandably, the frustrated smoker is having a hard time.

He's been wandering the streets for the better part of an hour now, too caught up in his thoughts to really pay attention (or care) about where he's going. His argument with Shinra had knocked him off-kilter; he has enough trouble keeping the flea out of his head on a good day, and the sudden swarm of thoughts and emotions the earlier conversation had evoked in him isn't making it any easier. 

_Shinra, if you knew the kind of things I've thought about doing to that parasite..._

Memories of old dreams and suppressed desires dance around in his head, reminding him of all the things he wishes he could forget; that he isn't as innocent as he'd like to think, that Izaya isn't as _evil_ as he'd like to think, and that all he's doing by pretending otherwise is delaying the inevitable. They can’t go on like this forever; sooner or later, something is going to change -- and not necessarily for the better. He knows that, he really does… he just doesn't want to admit it. 

He takes a deep, slow drag off his cigarette and blows the smoke into the night sky; when he breathes back in, a familiar scent tickles his nostrils. 

_Speak of the devil._

He sees him only seconds later, that stupid furry jacket of his flapping in the wind as he parades through the streets of Ikebukuro like he owns the place. Shizuo almost loses it right then and there -- there's a stop-sign only a few feet away that's calling his name, and it would be oh-so-easy to just rip it out of the pavement and throw it at the unsuspecting flea like a javelin -- but Shinra's words echoing in his head stop him. 

_’You never bothered to find out.’_

Of course he didn't. Why would he? He hates him, fucking _hates_ him. He wants him dead! 

_’Maybe if you'd bothered to give Orihara-kun a chance before deciding you didn't like him, you might not be in this situation.’_

And what if he _had_ given him a chance? What if he had trusted him, gotten to know him, started to like him? Who's to say Izaya wouldn't have betrayed him the first chance he got? 

_‘You're not a coward like he is!’_

_Shit._

He takes one last hit before flicking what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the dirt, and striding quickly towards the corner Izaya had disappeared around. The brunette is about a block or two ahead of him, humming something to himself while waving his fingers around like a conductor. Shizuo waits until he's sure the other man can't see him before making a rather poor attempt at sneak-running to the next corner; luckily for him, the clouds choose that moment to open up and start sending sheets of rain pouring down onto the asphalt, drowning out any noise the clumsy blonde might have made. He's about to move up again when a group of high school girls brush hurriedly past him, drawing Izaya's attention and forcing him to dart behind a bus shelter; he can hear them chattering excitedly -- something about a sleepover, hotpot, and dry clothes -- but he doesn't care enough about them to try and pay more attention. When he thinks it's safe to look, he pokes his head out so he can assess the situation. The girls are gone, but Izaya doesn't seem to have moved an inch... he's just standing there, letting the rain drench his hair and soak his jacket and flood his shoes. 

"Hotpot, huh?" The words are soft, barely audible above the weather... Shizuo might have missed them had he been focused on anything other than the dripping man in front of him. "Must be nice..." There's a sad smile on Izaya's face that catches him off-guard, but it's quickly replaced with the same irritating grin that's haunted his thoughts since he’d first seen it. "Ahhh, but I should get out of the rain before I catch a cold!" The informant resumes his joyful jaunt, pausing only to jump over a particularly large puddle. "I wonder if Shizu-chan ever gets sick? Probably not, fools are immune after all... " 

_**I'll** show you immune, you goddamn flea..._

If Shizuo hadn't been annoyed already, he certainly is now. The clothes his brother gave him are sopping wet, he's having an emotional crisis, and the _reason_ for both of those things is prancing around in clothes even wetter than _his_ are. He's starting to think this isn't worth it -- that he should just give up, go home, and get out of the rain. It isn't until Izaya slips through a door in front of him that he realizes he's in front of Russia Sushi. He hadn't planned on actually talking to the flea; he was just following him out of curiosity, to see where he might go or what he might do. He hadn't planned on the rain making him feel like a drowned rat, or on the promise of a warm drink and a full meal beating out his bitterness. He hadn't planned on waltzing right into the restaurant and taking the seat directly next to the smaller man, hadn't planned on ordering _two_ hot sakes, and he _definitely_ hadn't planned on the stupefied look on the flea's face making him decide this could actually be worth it, after all.


	4. Curiouser and Curiouser

If there's one place in Ikebukuro where Izaya is safe from Shizuo's rampages, it's definitely Russia Sushi. It’s been an unspoken neutral ground since high school; Simon has never been a big fan of their fights, and he's strong and capable enough that neither of them particularly want to get on his bad side. Because of that, they usually avoid the establishment if they think there's even a small chance the other might be there... which is exactly why he felt it was the best place to wait out the storm without having to worry about running into a certain blonde bodyguard. It's also why, when the door to the restaurant next swings open, he's not expecting said bodyguard to walk right in and sit down next to him.

He's not the only one caught off-guard, either; several patrons that have already ordered decide that they're no longer hungry and that home seems like a much better idea, and the ones that don't are pressed back against the walls like they're expecting a firefight -- which, knowing the two's track record, isn't really that far-fetched. Even Izaya himself is tense, his fingers twitching for the knife hidden in his jacket. _"What are you doing?"_ The question comes out in a hiss, betraying both his confusion and suspicion. The fact that Shizuo hasn't even _tried_ to attack him yet is making him more than a little uncomfortable... this isn't how this is supposed to go. This isn't how Shizuo is supposed to _act._ He's supposed to yell and scream and rip things out of the ground to use as projectiles, not... _this._ This is wrong. 

_But then again, when has the beast **ever** done what he was supposed to?_

"I'm sitting." Is the reply Izaya gets, said like it's the most obvious thing in the world; like the beast hasn't spent a decade hating him, chasing him, fighting him, trying to _kill_ him. 

"I can see that. Why?" It's more of a demand than an inquiry. 

"I'm hungry." Shizuo can feel himself starting to lose patience already, and he hasn't even been here that long. He gropes around in his pocket for his pack of smokes; when his fingers find the sopping mushy mess, he has to take a deep breath. 

_Of course my fucking cigs got ruined. Of **course.**_

A very, very, _very_ deep breath. 

"Then why not take yourself for a walk and go be hungry somewhere else? I hear there's an animal shelter nearby that gives food to strays -- you should try there! Maybe they'll even give you your rabies shot." Izaya's smile doesn't reach his eyes. He wants Shizuo to leave, to walk out the door and not come back until he's long gone... he doesn't want him here, close enough to touch, close enough to _smell._

_If this is a dream, it's surprisingly realistic._

"I'd rather be hungry here." 

"And _I'd_ rather you didn't." 

"Yeah, well I don't give a shit about what you'd 'rather,' _flea._ I'm hungry, I'm cold, and I'm not moving from this spot until I damn well want to. So, if _you_ don't like it, _you_ can leave!" He stares at Izaya as if daring him to challenge him; if he wants to fight then so be it, but _he_ isn't going to be the one to give up first. Not this time. 

_Well? What's it gonna be? You gonna run away like you always do?_

Russet-colored eyes regard the frustrated debt collector with a mix of distaste and amusement. Izaya doesn't like giving in, especially not where Shizuo is concerned -- it's always felt like he'd be losing to him, like he'd be admitting defeat. This situation, however, is new; as strong as his dislike for the other man is, his curiosity is stronger. It wouldn't hurt to humor him for a bit to see what happens... would it? 

_Curiosity killed the cat, Izaya._

Dealing with Shizuo is like dealing with fire. He's uncontrollable; his passion makes him a force to be reckoned with, every emotion he feels like a tornado that threatens to destroy anything and everything in its wake. To Izaya, Shizuo is like chaos personified. 

_But satisfaction brought it back._

What fun is life if you don't flirt with disaster every now and then? 

"Well..." He begins, his voice dripping with false innocence, _"I_ was here first, and I'm not in any particular hurry to leave. So you're just going to have to deal with me, aren't you~?" He rests his chin in his hand and smiles 'sweetly' at the man next to him (who is starting to regret ever setting a foot in here in the first place.) 

It takes every ounce of willpower Shizuo has not to deck him in the face. He knew it wasn't going to be easy -- he _knew_ it was going to be like this -- but that doesn't make him any less irritated. _"Fine."_ He grins a toothy grin, the expression more of a warning than a reassurance. When Dennis sets two steaming cups of sake in front of him, he pushes one (as gently as possible, despite how much he wants to pick it up and smash it against the flea's head) towards Izaya. 

"...What's this?" 

"Booze." Shizuo raises his to his lips. 

"Yes, that much is obvious. Let me rephrase: what is it doing in front of _me?"_

"I dunno, maybe so you can shove it down your throat and _shut the fuck up?"_

Izaya blinks, for once not entirely sure how to respond. He isn't used to not knowing what to say, or what to think, or how to act; Shizuo has always managed to find a way to make him feel like he’s trying to balance on a threadbare tightrope with no net underneath, like the smallest miscalculation could send everything crashing to the ground. 

_The higher the risk, the greater the reward._

He lets out one last, dry chuckle before curling his fingers around the drink he's been given and raising it into the air. 

"Cheers, _Shizu-chan."_

It tastes far better than he cares to admit.


	5. Trepidation

Izaya realizes too late that he's made a mistake the moment he finishes his drink and is left staring at the bottom of a now-empty cup. He's not a heavy drinker; he never has been, too concerned about the potentially disastrous consequences a loss of inhibitions could cause him. He can't afford to be careless, not if he wants to win the game -- and he _does_ want to win. He wants it more than anything. No... he _needs_ it more than anything, needs to be validated, needs to know that every decision (every sacrifice) he has ever made has been worth it. 

He shouldn't have accepted the sake. 

"I wonder, Shizu-chan, if there's a point to this little 'dinner date’?" There's a sharpness in his smirk and a wicked glint in his narrowed eyes that does nothing to hide his disdain for the person (no, not person -- _creature_ ) currently sitting beside him. "You show up unannounced and sit next to me without a word after a whole _decade_ of attempting to skewer me with traffic lights and whatever else you can get your hands on... and you _even_ go so far as to _buy me a drink._ What do you want?" He pushes the cup out of the way until he has enough surface room to rest his cheek against the counter. "What exactly is it you hope to achieve?" 

_Everyone has an angle. The brute's no different._

"I dunno. I haven't thought that far ahead." 

"What, so you just marched in here on a _whim?"_ Izaya can't help but stare at him at this point, trying desperately to make sense of the (rather nonsensical, to be honest) situation. He isn't having much luck. 

"I mean, yeah... I guess so." Shizuo scratches his head like he hasn't even thought about it, a slight pink in his cheeks that Izaya notices and immediately blames on the alcohol (it's the only explanation he'll allow himself to believe). "Though I guess if I'm being completely honest... I only came in here because you did." 

_Huh?_

"Because I -- wait, were you _following_ me?" He blinks, trying to process what he's just been told. How had he not noticed? This was the _monster,_ after all. Stealth has never been Shizuo's strong suit, his berserker nature making it hard for him to _not_ announce his presence in the most violent way possible; the fact that he'd managed to follow for even a small amount of time means that... well, it means that he's either _smarter_ than Izaya is willing to admit, or that Izaya himself is not as _infallible_ as Izaya is willing to admit, and neither of those options sound very attractive. 

"It's not like I meant to!" The words come out in a defensive growl, grating on Izaya's ears and causing the corners of his smiling lips to twitch ever so slightly. "I was just minding my own business, trying to calm down after the... Celty... thing." Shizuo's voice loses its edge. It's obvious that he's still ashamed about the incident. "Then I saw you, and -- fuck, I don't fucking know. I honestly have no fucking idea what I'm still doing here, _or_ why I haven't slammed your face into the goddamn counter yet." He looks as perplexed as Izaya feels. "Especially since I need a fucking cigarette, and my only pack decided it needed a goddamn shower." 

"Smoking is bad for your health, you know." It's a petty and unoriginal jab, but it's the only thing Izaya can think of to say. This conversation wasn't exactly a possibility he'd ever thought to prepare for, and as adaptable as he is, he reaaaaaaally doesn't like being caught by surprise. 

"Yeah, well, so are you." The blonde stands up and digs a few bills and some coins out of his back pocket before depositing them (slamming them, really) on the counter. 

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" 

"Exactly what it sounds like." He nudges his chair in with his foot, several flakes of varnished wood fluttering to the floor in protest of the unintentionally rough treatment. 

"And what exactly _does_ it sound like?" Izaya feels like he's talking to a wall. 

_Though a wall would probably be easier to deal with..._

"What the fuck is this, 21 questions?" 

Izaya can almost _see_ the vein in Shizuo's forehead threatening to pop. He wonders what would happen if he were to reach out and poke it, but decides to hold out on experimenting in favor of _not_ getting kicked out of his favorite sushi restaurant. "Uwaaaah~! Shizu-chan is so angry! I'm scared, _scared!"_

"I'll show you scared you goddamn--" 

"Such language! Goodness, Shizu-chan is _such_ a bad influence~!" He sighs and shakes his head. "Some people just don't know how to behave in public." Kicking his chair back and hopping out of it, Izaya catches it with his foot and pushes it in before it has the chance to clatter to the ground, then waves Dennis over and claps his hands apologetically. "I'm so, so, sooooo sorry... but could you be a dear and make my order to go? I just remembered I have work waiting at home, so I really should get going." It's a lie, of course. He doesn't have work waiting, nor is he planning on heading back to Shinjuku -- the only thing he _actually_ cares about is getting out of here and away from Shizuo before he does something he'll regret. 

"Oi." 

"Oh, but if you haven't started it yet, don't bother. I'm sure I can pick something up on the way." 

_"Oi."_

"I was _hoping_ to stick out the storm, but I guess I'll just have to--" 

_"OI!"_

The windows shake, and for a minute Izaya's not sure if it's the wind or the power of Shizuo's shout that causes it. He thinks maybe he might have even been imagining it. "Yes? Can I help you?" 

"I'm not done with you yet, _flea."_

"That's nice!" He chirps with an obviously false cheeriness, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and trying his best to wrestle it on with the fabric and fur still heavy with rain. It's cold. It's cold, it's cold, it's _cold,_ and for once Izaya wishes he wasn't so absolutely stubborn because the idea of going back out into that awful weather is not an idea he's particularly fond of; but it's either that or staying here, and he'd rather face a real, legitimate, tangible hurricane than have to try and deal with the emotional one the beast is beginning to stir up. 

_I'll go home. I'll go home, and I'll take a warm bath, and I'll think about how happy I'll be once that final nail is hammered into Shizu-chan's coffin. Maybe I'll imagine his funeral! Ah, but do they even hold services for monsters? I'm not sure, and I don't think that's something I can find out with just a simple Google search... hmmm. Something to look into later, perhaps?_

"But like I said, I really should be going." He fishes his wallet out of his pocket and pays for his sushi, half-tempted to pay for his drink too just to be spiteful. He chooses not to, deciding that the chance to have his financially-challenged enemy buy him booze is too satisfying to pass up. "I've wasted enough time in here, and I have better things to do." 

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" The look on Shizuo's face reminds Izaya of the moment when their eyes first met. There's the same fire in his glare, the same intensity, the same bitter suspicion that made Izaya first realize just how easily Shizuo could see through his mask. It makes him nervous. He doesn't like being nervous. 

"I really don't see how that's any of your business, _Shizu-chan."_ There's a subtle waver in his words -- he's too tense to stay calm. He needs to get out of there... he needs to get out of there _now._ He manages to bite back the panic threatening to bubble up in his throat long enough to head towards the entrance, making sure to keep just out of arm's reach of the other man. "So if you'll excuse me--" He yanks open the door, pausing only to shoot Shizuo a bitter smirk from over his shoulder. "I think I'll be going now." 

He can only pray that the blonde won't try and follow.


	6. A Truce?

In retrospect, Izaya really should have expected this to happen. The beast is as stubborn as he is unpredictable, and even the freezing rain soaking that stupid bartender uniform of his isn't enough to stop him from very angrily catching the door, slamming it back open (more like slamming it off the hinges, the goddamn _brute_ ) and storming after Izaya like an angry gorilla storming after a banana thief.

_As funny as that mental image is, this situation is hardly ideal._

"Is there a reason you're still following me, Shizu-chan?" He asks, his voice dripping with false sweetness. His every instinct is telling him to run… but if he does that, he’ll end up looking like a coward. 

_You **are** a coward._

He shakes the thought out of his head, trying his best to keep his heart from beating faster than a hummingbird's wings. Shizuo has caught up now, long legs struggling to keep an even pace with the shorter man. "I told you I wasn't fucking done talking to you, you goddamn fucking fl--" He stops himself before he can blow up and takes a deep, deeeeeep breath. 

"And I'm supposed to care... why?" 

"Because you fucking-- gah! Look, can you just stop fucking walking and give me a chance?" 

"A chance?" Izaya does nothing to hide his disbelief, nor does he bother to slow down. "You want me to give you a _chance?"_

"Did I fucking stutter?" 

"You're not going to get _anything_ with _that_ attitude, Shizu-chan." 

"Oh my fucking -- look, I'm only doing this because Shinra asked me to, okay? I don't want to be here any more than you do. So why don't you just tell just me what the fuck I need to do so we can get this over with and go the fuck home!" 

Izaya finally stands still, slowly turning towards his enemy with an impish grin tugging at his lips. "Alright, Shizu-chan... how about we start with a "please?'" 

"Are you fucking kiddi--" 

"Oooooor I could just start walking again, leaving you to explain to our friend exactly why you failed such a _simple_ task." 

"..." 

"Or _I_ could explain it to him... 'all he had to do was say please, Shinra! Honestly, if he had just asked nicely I would have --'" 

_"OKAY!"_

"...I'm sorry?" 

Shizuo grimaces as if the words he was about to say tasted bitter in his mouth. He couldn't believe he was even thinking about doing this, about giving in to this frustrating little demon's demands. Unfortunately, he doesn't really have a choice... not if he wants to keep what few friends he has, at least. _"Fuck."_ He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. "Okay. Fuck. P..." 

**"P...?"**

**"Puh..."** He looks like he's straining himself, like it's taking every ounce of willpower and energy he has just to force out one tiny syllable. 

_"Puuuuh~?"_

"Puh..." Shizuo's clenching his fists now, left eye twitching as he tries his hardest to _not_ fucking reach out and slam Izaya repeatedly against the wall. "Puh.... _lease."_ he finally manages to spit out, immediately regretting it when he sees the look of glee spread across Izaya's face. Izaya, on the other hand, regrets nothing. 

_Oh, this is absolutely **delightful!**_

"What was that again, Shizu-chan?" 

"...please." 

"Hmmmm, still not sure I heard you... I _know_ you can do better than that. Ooh! Wait, let me get my phone." The rain continues to poor down around them, but Izaya's too busy digging around for his cell to care. 

"What the fuck do you need your phone for?" 

Izaya responds by ignoring the question and raising his phone to his face. "Now... one last time, Shizu-chan. _What_ was that you just said?" He licks his lips and presses the 'record' button. 

_"'Please,'_ flea! I said fucking please! There, are you fucking happy now?!" More and more of Shizuo's motivation to put up with Izaya is falling by the wayside. He's surprised he's even gotten _this_ far, the other man being so fucking irritating that it's like he's _trying_ to get him to snap; which, now that he thinks about it, might actually be the point. It almost seems like he's trying to chip away at Shizuo's self-control with a chisel, hammering and hammering it in until he stops fucking trying to talk and goes back to trying to ki-- 

_Oh._

He's trying to get him to attack him. He's trying to get him to _fight._ He's trying to get him to do _anything_ but talk, which means he's trying to fucking run away again, which means there's a good chance Shinra is right, and that he's making the flea nervous. If that's the case... 

_Good._

Izaya has never been scared of his strength. He has never been intimidated, no matter how much he yelled or punched or threw things; he’s probably the one person in the world he actually _wants_ to be afraid of him, because maybe then the fucking bastard would leave him the hell alone... but Izaya has never shown even the slightest sign that he could be succeeding, and that pisses him off so goddamn much that even the tiniest chance that the annoying little shit is actually uncomfortable is enough to help keep his rage from boiling over. 

"Ecstatic." Izaya smiles “innocently” and slips his phone back into his pocket. 

_Thank you, Shizu-chan, for giving me such a wonderful gift. I will treasure it always._

"Alrighty~! I'll be nice and humor you for a little while, but I _would_ appreciate it if we could find someplace _indoors_ to chat? Today's weather isn't exactly the nicest." He tugs at his collar to draw attention to his soaked shirt. 

"My apartment is nearby. We could go there." The words leave Shizuo's mouth before he can even process them; the suggestion is no more than a whim, a split-second decision influenced by the cold numbing his fingers and the way Izaya's wet clothes are clinging tightly to his slender form. He can only hope, only _pray_ that the flea will deny the offer, because trying to back out now will only make him look more suspicious… but no such luck. 

"Better than nothing, I suppose. Lead the way!" 

He inwardly curses his lack of impulse control, hoping with all his heart that inviting the smaller man into his home doesn’t end up making him do something he might actually regret. "Fine. But if you fall behind, I'm leaving your ass in the rain." 

"It's cute how you think that's even a possibility." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

"Don't wanna. You _are_ aware we're drawing attention, yes?" Izaya tilts his head in the direction of a small gaggle of people currently watching the two of them with wide, confused eyes. They remind him of a mob of meerkats, wary and cautious but still curious enough to stick their necks out; too curious, Izaya thinks, for him to be comfortable cooperating with the monster in public. As much as he loves humans, he isn't exactly the biggest fan of being stared at. "We should probably get moving... unless you _want_ to freeze to death? As much as I'd like you out of my life, I don't plan to stand here in the cold just to wait around for you to kick the bucket." He starts walking again, not bothering to look back and check if the other is following him. Shizuo glances over at the growing audience and scowls... as much as he hates to admit it, the flea has a point. 

_Damn it._

It takes him only two long strides to reach Izaya, who immediately steps aside to let him take the lead. He hesitates for a moment; he doesn't like the idea of having his back to the flea (he isn't exactly known for fighting fair), and it's also incredibly likely that Izaya not only already knows where his apartment is, but has also been there. He wouldn't put that kind of stalking past him. 

"Shiiiiiizu-chan." 

"I'm fucking going, alright?" He grumbles, moving ahead of the grinning flea. He has a feeling this is going to be a very long night.


	7. Like Flipping a Switch

The walk back to Shizuo's apartment is awkward, to say the least. Even Izaya has fallen quiet, the tension between them so thick that he can barely breathe; his chest feels tight, his heart is pounding, and he can feel himself trembling (whether from nerves or the chill, he can't quite tell). Neither of them have spoken a word since they left their spectators behind, both waiting for the other to say something, _do_ something that would upset the silence and ruin their ceasefire before it has even really started. It's almost a competition, like they're trying to see who will give up first... but, surprisingly, nothing happens. It's a testament to how stubborn they are, how unwilling they are to let the other have the satisfaction of seeing them lose.

Contrary to Shizuo's belief, Izaya has never actually stepped foot in his home. It's a line he's afraid to cross, a point of no return that he knows will do him more harm than good. He's thought about it, of course; he's always wondered what kind of place a monster could inhabit, he's just never been sure he actually wanted to find out… and now he has. 

_Well, it's certainly... simple._

It's a small studio apartment, the only furniture seeming to be a sofa chair covered in clothing, an uncomfortable-looking futon, and a scratched-up coffee table. There's no T.V, no computer, no landline, no radio, no _nothing_ to connect him to the outside world -- other than his cellphone, that is, which he doesn't seem to care much about. In short... it's _boring._ "So, Shizu-chan... now what?" Izaya crosses his arms. "I'm here, you're here… what is it you wanted to talk about?" 

Shizuo doesn't answer right away. He's not even sure how to... he hadn't thought that far ahead. He decides to just do what he's been doing so far and just go with the flow. "I guess... I wanna talk about us." 

"About... us?" Izaya is confused. What does the beast mean, ‘us’? There _is_ no ‘us’. The two men are separate, isolated, individual -- to think otherwise would be... well, it would be foolish. 

"Yeah. I..." The blonde runs his fingers through his damp hair, pausing to scratch at the top of his head. "Look... I... I realize I haven't exactly been..." 

"Been _what,_ Shizu-chan?" The question comes out a bit more aggressively than Izaya had intended, his words as sharp as the knife he has in his pocket. "Because the only thing _I’ve_ ever seen you be is the monster we _both_ know you are." 

It hurts. The words hurt. They bite into Shizuo's flesh like the fangs of a wild animal, causing the already shaky hold he has on his emotions to weaken. The worst part, he realizes, is that Izaya is _right._ It’s just like Shinra said; he's never once bothered to strike up a conversation with him, or tried to be friendly, or treated him like anything other than a scab that needed to be picked off or a pest that needed to be exterminated -- he'd decided he hated him before he even knew anything about him, thinking that better and safer and easier than accepting the feelings that the other boy had stirred up inside his teenage self's confused, hormone-driven mind. It wasn't entirely his fault... but he can't say it was all the flea's, either. "Yeah... I know." He admits, his voice low, quiet, almost ashamed. "I never bothered to give you a chance, and now here I am asking for one from you for selfish fucking reasons. I wouldn't blame you for leaving right fucking now... I just want to try and fix my fuck-ups, you know?" 

No. No, Izaya doesn't. He doesn't know _anything_ anymore... he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to _think,_ he doesn't know how to act, or what to say, and he can _feel_ his control slipping, feel the panic starting to build up in his chest as he tries desperately to make sense of such a nonsensical situation. "Did somebody set you up to this?" He asks abruptly, paranoia clouding his mind and judgement. 

"Huh? I told you already, Shinra--" 

"I _know_ what you fucking told me, _beast."_ He snaps, fully aware that his mask is slipping but too worked up to care. "That doesn't mean I believe it. Who was it? How much did they pay you? What do they want?" The questions come one after the other, each one more and more frantic than the last, and Shizuo is finally starting to understand just how unstable a foundation Izaya's ego has been built on -- the fact that he's accusing him of trying to trick him is proof enough that he's starting to crack. 

"Do you really think I'm capable of that kinda bullshit? Unlike you, _I'm_ not a fucking liar." 

"People are capable of anything if the price is right." 

"Oh yeah? So I'm people now?" Shizuo pulls a fresh pack of American Spirits out of its carton and unwraps it, pushing a cigarette up enough to pull out with his teeth. "And here I thought I was a _monster.”_

"I said _people_ , not humans. The two terms are not mutually inclusi--" 

"Do you actually buy the shit you spew?" Shizuo interrupts, flicking his Zippo open so he can light his cigarette. "Because I'm really starting to think you do, and that's just fucking _sad.”_

"If you're insinuating that I--" 

"Holy fucking _shit,_ flea -- do you ever stop talking? No wonder you don't have any friends, you're so fucking full of it I'm surprised you haven't exploded into millions of tiny fucked up pieces!" He can't hold back anymore, his frustrations pouring from his lips like a tidal wave. "And while we're at it, do you have any fucking idea how absolutely goddamn _irritating_ you are? It's like you've made it your life's goal to fucking harass me every chance you get, if I didn't know better I'd think you were in _love_ with me or some... thing..." Shizuo's voice trails off abruptly, a strange look in Izaya's eyes stopping him dead in his tracks. There's something off about it, something _wrong,_ something that makes his stomach flop and his breath hitch in his throat... 

_Oh. **Oh.** Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck **fuck.**_

He'd been too dead-set on hurting the other man to actually think about what he was saying; he’s never once allowed himself to think that Izaya might feel anything other than hate for him... but the moment the words leave his mouth, he knows them to be true. He doesn't even have time to say anything else before the other man swiftly turns on his heel and beelines for the door, and it's only on pure instinct that he manages to grab his wrist before he can actually make it out. "Wai--" 

"Let me go." There's a flatness to Izaya's tone that sounds foreign to Shizuo... he doesn't like it. 

"I said wa--" 

"Let me _go."_ Izaya's voice is slightly raised now, slightly more urgent. He tries uselessly to pry Shizuo's fingers off of his arm, but he might as well have been trying to move a mountain for all the good it’s doing. The panic from earlier is beginning to bubble up again; he needs to get out, needs to escape, needs to be anywhere other than here because somehow the idiot has figured him _out_ and he has no fucking clue how to handle that. 

"Why, so _you_ can freeze to death? No thanks." 

"I wasn't _asking,_ Shizu-chan. Let me _go!"_ He's trying not to appear as desperate as he feels, unable to get Shizuo's fingers to budge no matter how hard he claws at them. 

"No! I'm not going to fucking let go of you until you promise to--" 

_"Let me **GO!"**_ Izaya lashes out blindly with his free hand, releasing an angry shriek when Shizuo catches it and squeezes _just_ enough to prove to Izaya just how utterly powerless he really is. _"Let go let go let go let go let _ **GO!"**_ _

__

__

Shizuo has never been in this kind of situation, let alone with the prideful, arrogant son of a bitch he's been battling since his childhood; the only thing he knows for sure is that he wants him to calm down, wants him to stop thrashing, wants him to stop _fighting_ \-- but he has no idea how to make that happen, so in absence of any other option, he does the first thing that pops into his head... and _hugs_ him. To be fair, "hug" may not exactly be the best word for it... it's more like a grapple, Shizuo's arms keeping the smaller man locked tight enough against his chest that he isn’t able to wiggle free no matter how much he tries (and try he does) -- but the more he struggles, the harder Shizuo holds him, and the harder Shizuo holds him, the more Izaya struggles. It's a frustrating cycle that goes on for what seems like hours, until they're both too exhausted to stand and Izaya has calmed down enough that Shizuo doesn't feel as nervous about loosening his grip a little. "You done now?" 

"...Yes." 

"Really?" 

Silence. 

_"Really?"_

_"Yes."_

Shizuo hesitates for a moment before finally releasing the other man, who immediately starts rubbing his bruised wrists (a little moreso than necessary). "That hurt, Shizu-chan." 

"You'll get over it." 

"You could have severely damaged me!" 

"A cockroach like you? Unlikely." 

"You should really be more responsible." 

"And you should really be less of an asshole." 

"I'm hurt, Shizu-chan! Truly, I am." Izaya stands up slowly and starts walking in the direction of the front entrance. 

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." 

He stops at that, lips curling into a sly smile. "Way out? Who said I was leaving?" He slowly (too slowly, Shizuo thinks) shrugs off his drenched jacket, hanging it on the plastic coat-rack located next to the front door. 

"Uh... you did?" 

"I changed my mind." 

"You changed your--" 

"Mind, yes." He turns back around, shooting Shizuo a smirk before walking right past him and plopping down on the aforementioned sofa chair. He grins smugly when he sees the way Shizuo's eye twitches. 

"You're _sitting_ on my laundry." What is he, a cat? You wouldn't even think he'd been upset less than five minutes ago, not with the cocky, languid way he's stretched out on the chair. 

"Am I?" 

"Yes!" 

"Oh, my! I hadn't noticed. I'm truly, deeply sorry." It's obvious from the way he wiggles in his seat that he's not sorry at all, the freshly-cleaned bartender uniforms soaking up water from his rain-drenched pants. "It's awfully cold in here, I don't suppose I'd be able to to use your restroom? A warm bath sounds very nice right now." 

Shizuo wants to argue, wants to tell him that this isn't his fucking house and therefore doesn't get to get his way -- but a tiny voice in his head that he most likely _shouldn't_ be listening to makes him decide against it. "You'll probably need a change of clothes too, huh?" 

"....eh?" Izaya blinks. He didn't expect Shizuo to actually agree, let alone offer assistance. 

"You might get sick if you put on your wet clothes right after taking a bath." 

"A-ah, yes. Well, I'm afraid I didn't exactly leave the house with such a thing in mind." He tilts his head quizzically. What in the world is going through Shizuo's head now? 

"That's fine. I probably have a t-shirt and boxers you can borrow." Shizuo is skirting a dangerous line, inching closer and closer to the breaking point; the problem is, he's not entirely sure he doesn't _want_ to break. "I can look for them while you're in there if you want." 

"I wasn't aware barbarians like you could be so nice! I'm impressed, really." 

"There's towels in the cupboard next to the sink." 

"Okay!" 

"Feel free to use... whatever." 

"What a gracious host you are." 

"If you need anything, you can suck it the fuck up." 

Izaya laughs at that, the sound almost genuine. "I'll keep that in mind. No peeking, Shizu-chan!" 

"Like I'd even want to!" He's more defensive than he wants to be, and he can tell by the way Izaya raises his eyebrow that it hasn't gone unnoticed. 

"Be out soon, Shizu-chan." The brunette winks, then disappears into the bathroom. Shizuo lets out a groan as soon as he's out of earshot. 

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_


	8. Oops

_I've made a mistake._

Izaya sinks lower under the warm water, dark hair billowing out on the surface. 

_An absolutely awful mistake._

To say that he's disappointed with himself would be an understatement. Izaya prides himself on his ability to keep his cool and make rational decisions, looking down on anyone that lets their instincts do the thinking for them without caring about the consequences. He's never considered himself an impulsive person, so his impetuous behavior from earlier is just as concerning to him as it probably is for Shizuo (if not more so). 

_How am I supposed to fix this?_

He's been racking his brain trying to think of a solution, some plan he can put into play that will allow him to get out of this mess with the least amount of fallout. Shizuo ( _Shizuo!_ ) is on the other side of the door, doing who knows what while Izaya sits naked (he _hates_ being naked, hates being vulnerable, hates being _exposed_ ) in a tiny bathtub that both doesn't belong to him and looks like it's seen better days. The circumstances would be laughable if they weren't so terrifying, every wall he's carefully constructed over the years threatening to crumble down if he doesn't find a way out of this soon. 

_I really, really, **really** shouldn't have accepted the sake._

He's not quite sure if he's actually drunk or just incredibly tipsy... either way, he isn't at his emotional _or_ mental best, and that means he's far more likely to make errors. It's part of the reason he's so flustered; he generally avoids trying anything he isn't absolutely certain he'll be able to handle, yet for some reason he had agreed to follow the one person he can't read into the one place he shouldn't go. 

_The belly of the beast._

He sighs and sinks even further into the bath, his nose and mouth both submerged. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll pass out and drown and then won't have to face Shizuo at all... but drowning means dying, and he isn't brave enough for that. Not yet, at least. Bursting out of the water, Izaya draws a deep, deep breath as he pushes his wet hair back off of his forehead. He's dwelling too much. The situation most likely isn't as bad as he's making it out to be; he's smarter than Shizuo, more resourceful than Shizuo. If any of them is going to come out on top, it'll be him... there's no way he'll let himself fail, especially not in front of _Shizuo-chan._ He doesn't even know why he was so worried in the first place. 

_Maybe it's because you're not actually safe from him._

Damn it. 

Shizuo is strong, everyone knows that. He can rip telephone poles out of concrete, punch holes in brick walls, and push cars off of what should have been his lifeless body; a bathroom door would be nothing to him -- if he really wants to, he'll have no trouble breaking in and using this chance to kill him once and for all. He wishes he could convince himself that the thought didn't excite him... he's a ringmaster, an Orwellian "Big Brother" that loves to spy and plot and scheme and twist things until they're practically unrecognizable from the way they started. He's good at it, too... he makes a living off of selling and buying secrets, and it's rare for him to come across anyone that can throw him for a loop. Unfortunately, Shizuo has been an exception to every rule since the moment they first met. The blonde's always been able to see right through him; nothing Izaya does seems to keep him down for long, and he also never seems to run out of people willing to help him out in a crisis. No matter how many people he hurts, no matter how much damage he causes, people continue to love him... and he hates it. He hates it, he hates _him,_ and he hates how easily Shizuo can make him feel... _worthless._

Shizuo's continued survival is a constant reminder of just how absolutely pathetic Izaya truly is. His entire personality is a lie, a facade, a mask put on to hide his (many) insecurities; it had been Shizuo that taught him what the harsh sting of rejection feels like, when he was young and bored and curious about the "super strong Shizu-chan" he'd heard so much about. You wouldn't think it now, but he had been a very shy child -- he mostly kept to himself, finding it easier and safer to simply observe than actually try and get involved with his peers. Shizuo was the first person he had ever gone out of his way to meet... 

_And look how well **that** turned out._

His current situation feels like a dream, a too-good-to-be-true fantasy that he'd have written off as impossible if he wasn't currently experiencing it. He's lost count of how many times he's imagined something like this happening... though in his mind, it usually involves groveling and feet-kissing (on the mongrel's part, of course). In all honesty ( _hah_ ) he's not even one-hundred percent certain that this _isn't_ a dream, as realistic as it seems; the circumstances are so unlikely, it makes far more sense for it to be nothing more than a product of his imagination. 

_The mind is a powerful thing, isn't it?_

Buuuuuuuut... if it _isn't_ a dream, that means he's currently in an extremely vulnerable position due to a lack of clothing, sobriety, and impulse control. Shizuo has a definite advantage; without a knife or other weapon on-hand, the odds aren't exactly in the smaller man's favor. Were Shizuo to attack him right now, there probably isn't much he can do to stop him. 

_No. No, don't you dare. Don't you --_

Izaya lets out a mix between an exasperated sigh and an anguished groan when he feels a familiar (and entirely unwelcome) heat start to gather between his legs. He doesn't need this... not right now, not when Shizuo is right outside and there's no way to escape the tiny apartment that doesn't involve waltzing straight past him with no guarantee he'll actually be able to make it to the door, let alone out of it. 

_So much for a warm bath..._

He yanks the plug out of the drain, twists the "COLD" dial all the way to the right, then flicks up the diverter so that the icey water is beating down on him from the shower head instead of pouring from the faucet. It doesn't feel good in the slightest, but Izaya is stubborn and would much rather grin and bear it -- he is _not_ going to let Shizuo have the satisfaction, knowingly or not. 

\------- 

_This is bad._

Shizuo is laying on his futon, staring up at the ceiling like it's the most fascinating thing he's seen all week. 

_Really, really fucking bad._

Izaya has been in the bathroom for almost thirty minutes now; Shizuo has no clue what he's doing in there (what could possibly take that fucking long?) but he does know that he really, really, really needs to pee. If Izaya doesn't come out of there soon, he's going to barge in there and kick him out by force. At least, that's what he _wants_ to do -- is it a good idea? Probably not. 

_I'm so fucking stupid._

Izaya is not a good person. He brings chaos with him wherever he goes, spreading strife and destruction as easily as a dandelion spreads its seeds; he's a snake, a worm, a spider that catches innocent people in his web for no real purpose other than his own sick, twisted amusement... but for some strange, fucked-up reason, Shizuo wants nothing more than to bend him over and _fuck_ him again and again and again until he's a cum-filled mess barely able to stand, let alone cause any trouble. Obviously, Shizuo is not a good person either. 

_Am I hard because I need to piss, or am I just really fucking horny?_

Either way, it's awkward and uncomfortable and he _really_ wants to do something about it... but that involves either peeing or masturbating, and neither of those are really a viable option at the moment (unfortunately for him). 

_Damn it flea, hurry **up!**_

There's a squeak as the door to the bathroom cracks open and Izaya pokes his head out, a towel hiding everything that the door can't (which Shizuo's self-control is thankful for, even if his body isn't). "So! About that t-shirt and boxers... I don't suppose you've bothered to look for them yet?" 

He hadn't. "Naw. I forgot." 

"You forgo--" Izaya squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temples. He can feel a headache coming on. "Then could you go look for those now? As much as I enjoy baths, I don't want to stay in here all night." 

"Yeah, fine." Shizuo pushes himself up off the futon and takes his sweet time meandering over to the sofa chair, where he digs through the pile of damp button-ups and slacks until he finds a (also damp) plain white t-shirt and pair of navy blue plaid boxer shorts. "Here." He balls them up and throws them at Izaya, who catches them before they can smack him in the face. 

"...they're wet." 

"Yeah, some fucking asshole sat on them." 

"...touché." Izaya disappears back into the bathroom, leaving Shizuo to flop forward onto the futon and bury his face in his pillow. It doesn't seem like the flea has noticed his growing... "problem"... but knowing him, there's always the possibility that he actually has and is just planning to use it as blackmail at some point in the future. He wouldn't put it past him (though to be fair, he wouldn't put much of _anything_ past him). 

_I'm on thin ice._

He wishes he could just will it away... things would be much easier that way. Sighing, he turns over onto his back just in time to see the bathroom door start to open; squeezing his eyes shut, he can feel his cheeks growing warmer as his heartbeat began to pick up its pace. He knows he's going to have to open his eyes sooner or later, but he can't trust himself yet... not when the pest is most likely dripping wet, half-naked, and wearing nothing but Shizuo's own boxers and undershirt. 

"Oi, Shizu-chan." 

_Maybe if I ignore him he'll go away._

"Shizu-chan." 

He doesn't answer. 

"Shizu-chan." 

Still no answer. 

"Shiiiiizu-chan." 

Again, no answer. 

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiizu-chan!" 

_Don't react, don't react, don't react no matter how fucking annoying he is..._

He hears Izaya sigh, the sound as fake and overdramatic as the brunette himself is. "The beast fell asleep... how boring, boring! And here I thought he wanted to chat..." Shizuo can't tell if he honestly thinks he's sleeping, or if he's just trying to provoke him. "Ahhhhh, what a rude host Shizu-chan is! I suppose I'll have to find some way to entertain myself until he wakes up..." Shizuo has to try very, very hard not to imagine _exactly_ how Izaya might be able to entertain himself. "Let's see here..." He can tell by the sounds of rustling that Izaya is looking through his stuff, which he'd have more of an issue with if he actually had anything worth hiding -- but years worth of debt and property damage fines makes it difficult to hold on to anything particularly valuable. He doesn't think Izaya will be able to find something to irritate him with... until, that is, he hears a squeal of delight following the sound of a drawer opening. "Ooh, a Sharpie!" 

_You've got to be kidding me..._

It's not long before he feels a weight sink onto the mattress -- he's pissed at himself that he could even for a _moment_ think that he was safe from Izaya's antics, especially when the other man is just oh-so-good at getting under his skin in the worst ways possible. It had been nothing more than wishful thinking, a desperate attempt to avoid any sort of situation that might make things more complicated than they already are... and he'd failed miserably. Izaya has for some reason decided to settle on top of him, possibly to make it easier to reach and scribble on his unmarred face. Shizuo doesn't think there's much of a point in trying to continue the act anymore -- not when Izaya is straddling his stomach, the smell of permanent marker strong in his nostrils. He grabs the other's hand before it can reach his face. "I'm _awake,_ flea." 

"So you are! Such a pity... I was feeling inspired." 

"Feel inspired somewhere else." He opens his eyes and immediately regrets it when he sees the way _his_ undershirt is hanging off of Izaya's pale shoulders, and the way _his_ boxers had been rolled up (in what was most likely an attempt to keep them from falling down) high enough to reveal a pair of thighs just as pale as his shoulders... 

"...ah... Shizu-chan?" 

"What." 

"I, um... I really don't mean to be rude..." 

_That's a laugh._

"But that's not what it feels like... is it?" 

_Shit._

"What does it feel like?" 

"It... well, it feels like..." 

"Feels like...?" 

"Nothing. Never mind." 

"Bullshit." He's too turned on to play pretend anymore, his erection straining against the fabric of his sweatpants like its life depends on it. 

Izaya swallows hard; Shizuo can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush when he awkwardly shifts in his lap, obviously unsure of what to do about this most recent development. "It's not 'bullshit' -- I'm just wondering why you seem to be..." 

"Hard?" 

"...yes." 

"Well, that would be 'cause I am." 

"Are you _trying_ to make me uncomfortable?" 

"Naw, I'm just having fun watching you squirm." 

Izaya's mouth hangs open, rust-colored eyes betraying his bewilderment. "Excuse me?" 

_Ah, fuck it._

"I said..." Shizuo sits up suddenly, causing Izaya to slide further back on his lap as he leans in close enough to feel the broker's warm breath against his lips. "That I'm having fun watching you squirm." He's not sure what it is that possesses him to close the gap between them... maybe it's the way Izaya's breath hitches in his throat, or the way his cock seems to twitch to life almost immediately after Shizuo's words have left his mouth... though, to be honest, Shizuo doesn't really care about the why or the how. All he cares about at that moment is crushing their lips together and tangling his fingers in soft, soggy locks and _tugging_ hard enough to draw a gasp from the proud, arrogant little fucker he's been wanting to bang since puberty. 

_As far as bad decisions go... this could definitely be worse._


	9. Wildfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooookay. Wooooh boy. So. This chapter. This chapter right here. This is trash. 100% Grade A trash written by yours truly, the trash prince. I am a filthy fucking sinner and this chapter absolutely, positively reflects that. Lemme throw some words at you so you can decide if you really want to go down this road: graphic smut, hate sex, pain kink, humiliation kink, size kink(?), begging, biting, orgasm denial, power play, overuse of the word "fuck," etc etc. If this sounds like your kind of poison, than by all means! Please continue. I just want to make it absolutely clear what you're in for if you do.
> 
> So yeah. *coughs*

Izaya has never liked cigarettes.

He remembers trying one back in high school out of curiosity, but the flavor of the smoke had turned him off of it enough that he'd decided that he'd rather not experience it ever again. The taste of nicotine on Shizuo's tongue, however, is quickly starting to change his mind. 

He knows he should stop this. He _knows_ it. He knows he should push him away, knows he should walk out the door, knows he should _not_ be kissing him back with the same white-hot intensity -- but he's never been very good at doing what he’s supposed to, and the teeth nibbling at his lower lip are doing a very good job of making sure this is no exception. He twists his fingers into Shizuo's hair and _yanks,_ the low growl he receives in response sending a shiver down his spine. 

This is _definitely_ no exception. 

_"Watch it,_ flea..." 

The warning causes his heart to start beating harder than it ever has before -- there's something exhilarating about pushing Shizuo's buttons, something that makes him feel light-headed and giddy and _maybe_ just a little bit delirious. "Or _what?"_

"You're playing with fire..." 

Izaya leans in to brush his lips against Shizuo's throat, grinning gleefully when he feels the larger man grow even harder. Trailing soft, teasing kisses up to his ear, he gives it a sharp nip before whispering into it. _"When it comes to Shizu-chan, I'm **always** playing with fire."_

That's all it takes for Shizuo to excitedly (maybe a little _too_ excitedly) jerk him back in and smash their mouths together once more. Izaya is soft and tastes like peppermint chapstick, but his kiss is just as ferocious as his own; the way their lips start to bruise and swell as they clash against each other is making the blonde dizzy. 

_Touch him... want to touch him..._

He slips his hands down the back of the rolled-up boxer shorts and _squeezes,_ delighting in the way Izaya gasps and squirms as he starts to massage the supple flesh of his ass. He breaks away from the kiss and noses at the crook of Izaya's neck, breathing in his scent. 

_He smells good enough to eat._

"You know what happens, right?" He asks, his voice barely more than a murmur against the brunette’s pale skin. "When you play with fire..." 

Izaya shivers, the other's hot breath on his throat causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. "Well... generally... you get burned..." He feels Shizuo's grin rather than sees it, and he barely has time to wonder _why_ he's grinning before his teeth sink into his flesh and a jolt of pain sends waves of pleasure up and down his spine. _"Fuck..."_ he hisses, grinding down hard on the other’s lap. There's another growl, deeper and more guttural this time, and he suddenly finds himself with his back pressed against the mattress, his arms pinned above his head, and a very horny Shizuo looming over him. The hungry look in his amber eyes reminds him of a starving wolf who's finally caught his prey... and he doesn't like that, not when he's trapped underneath him with absolutely no way to defend or free himself. He _especially_ doesn't like the way the blood rushes to his groin when he realizes he's entirely at the beast's mercy; Shizuo's grip is unbudgeable, unbreakable, and that excites him more than he'd care to admit. 

_Why don't you just tell him to stop?_

What would be the point in that? It's not like he's likely to listen. 

_He could kill you right now!_

He wouldn't dare. He's not _that_ stupid. 

_Crimes of passion happen all the time._

"You're trembling." 

Izaya's attention snaps back to Shizuo, who is gazing down at him curiously. "It's cold." 

Shizuo grins wider and nuzzles Izaya's neck. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yea-- yes." 

"Weird..." He murmurs, peppering Izaya's collarbone with little nips and open-mouthed kisses. "Cuz I feel fucking _hot."_ He sucks at the skin until it's red and bruised and tender, a tiny groan tickling his ear. 

_Fuck._

He's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold back. Seeing Izaya like this, _hearing_ Izaya like this... it's like a fantasy made real. The brunette is coming undone, more and more of his arrogant facade crumbling away with every touch, kiss, and bite; Shizuo wants it gone, wants to strip Izaya of his stupid mask, strip him of his _lie,_ strip him of everything but his emotions and desires. In short... he wants to _break_ him. 

Knocking Izaya's legs apart with his knees, Shizuo settles between his thighs and presses their bodies together until he can feel the other man's erection through the fabric of his boxer shorts. Izaya instinctively tries to force his legs shut, only now becoming fully aware of just how little clothing he has on; he might as well be naked, both the boxers and t-shirt too thin and damp to make him feel any less exposed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but it doesn't do much good. He can't calm down... he's too worked up, too _charged,_ and Shizuo's hard cock throbbing against his is just making things worse. 

_I want him. **Fuck,** I want him..._

But that means surrendering, and surrendering means losing, and losing means giving up what little dignity Shizuo hasn't already stolen from him... and he isn't quite willing to do that yet. "I don't suppose you'd be a dear and let go of me?" 

"Nope." 

"Yeah... I didn't think so." He lets out a heavy, melodramatic sigh. "Shizu-chan is just _too_ mean." 

Shizuo snorts. "Sure I am." He switches his grip on Izaya's wrists from two hands to one, leaving the other free to snake down the front of Izaya's boxers. 

"Wha-- what are you doing?" Izaya questions breathlessly, his heart-rate skyrocketing when Shizuo's warm fingers wrap around him. "Do...nnn... don't..." 

"Hah?" Shizuo starts to stroke him, carefully and deliberately, watching his face with a mix of fascination and arousal. Izaya has never been so captivating, eyes that look almost _crimson_ fluttering gently shut as swollen pink lips part to let out a low, shaky moan... _god_ , he wants to fuck him. He wants to fuck him hard, he wants to fuck him fast, and most of all he wants to fuck him _now_ \-- but he also wants to hear him beg for it, wants to witness him let go of his pride and desperately plead for his cock -- which, unfortunately for him, means being _patient,_ calm, cool-headed, and basically everything else the little shit constantly tries to convince him he isn't capable of. "Don't what?" He leans forward until their faces are only inches apart. "Don't touch you?" 

His strokes slow to an agonizing pace, his touch teasing and taunting and entirely unsatisfying. It's not enough; Izaya wants more of it, _needs_ more of it. He whines in complaint and bucks into Shizuo's hand, ignoring the nagging little voice in the back of his head that tells him that maybe, just _maybe,_ letting a man capable of crushing telephone poles give him a handjob was _not_ a good idea... but neither was getting tipsy, following him home, bathing in his tub, and willingly dressing in nothing more than a pair of loose boxers and a shirt that refuses to stop slipping off of his shoulders. Dealing with the monster is always a high-stakes gamble, he'd known that from the start; at this point, what else was there to do but go all in? _"Shizu-chan..."_

The desperate way Izaya groans his name causes Shizuo to accidentally squeeze him just a little too eagerly, startling a panicked _"gentle!"_ from the smaller man's lips. The realization that he has the upper hand finally starts to really sink in, the hissed warning reminding him that _he's_ the one currently in control -- _not_ the flea. Izaya is powerless, and Shizuo couldn't be more thrilled to rub that in his face. "Haaaaah? Gentle? What's that? _I_ wouldn't know, I'm just a big dumb _beast."_

Izaya blinks up at him, dumbfounded, before his head flops back against the mattress and bitter laughter starts to bubble up in his throat. 

_You've really done it now, haven't you?_

He's backed into a corner with no escape and no way of knowing what's going to happen. Shizuo is as unpredictable as a wildfire, passionate and volatile and blazing with an intensity that threatens to set Izaya aflame... and the _worst_ part is that he's enjoying it, even _welcoming it,_ the adrenaline racing through his veins making him higher than any drug could. 

The warm palm sliding up and down his length starts to pick up speed, pressure building in the pit of his stomach as he's worked closer and closer to the brink. "Fuck," he rasps, chest arching up towards the ceiling as his toes curl against the futon. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck -- "_ And then the touch is gone, leaving him light-headed, slightly disoriented, and so incredibly overstimulated that just the cool air on his skin has him on pins and needles. It takes him a few seconds to come down from the endorphin rush -- the moment he does, he lets out an indignant squeal. "You... you... you... _ugh!"_

Shizuo snickers, the smug grin on his face reminding Izaya of just how much he wanted to fucking _kill_ the stupid fucking beast."Oh, I'm sorry... did the flea want to _come?"_

_"Fuck_ you!" 

He doesn't even have to touch him; just blowing on his earlobe is enough to make him squirm. "How 'bout a _'please?'"_ he rudely mimics. He hasn't forgotten about Izaya's earlier antics, leftover embarrassment spurring him to return the favor. He knows he probably shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he is, but Izaya's been a thorn in his side since high school and he has a metric shit-ton of pent-up frustrations he's _itching_ to take out on him."Only fair, right?" 

"Well now you're just being _spiteful,"_ Izaya snaps, shame coloring his cheeks. Shizuo is practically bullying him, going out of his way to take shots at his ego. He's not used to being toyed with like this... it's humiliating, and humiliation is not an emotion he deals with well. 

"Yeah, probably." 

"I fucking _hate_ you." 

"The feeling's mutual." 

"I hope you _die."_

"Right back atcha." Shizuo can't tell if he's more agitated or aroused, only that he's riled up and losing patience; he slips his hand down into his pants, stroking himself to the sound of Izaya's offended tirade. 

"I hope you _suffer_ first. I hope you suffer for days and weeks and months and _years,_ until you've suffered for so long that you lose hope of ever -- what are you doing?" 

"Jerking off. Why, _you_ wanna do it?" 

"Ahaha! Shizu-chan is so funny!" 

"Yep, that's me. Fucking hilarious." He lets go of himself _just_ long enough to grab Izaya's hand and guide it down between them, tightening his grip when the smaller man tries to jerk free. 

_"What are you doing?"_

"I thought it was pretty fucking obvious." 

"Don't you _dare."_

"Oh, I'm _gonna_ fucking dare." 

Izaya closes his eyes and swallows thickly when his fingers are wrapped around something warm, pulsing, and not at _all_ small, heat pooling in his groin as he starts to throb in anticipation. "You really are a monster..." He grumbles. He can tell by the way he grins that the bastard's taken it as a compliment. 

As for said 'bastard', his self-control has already started to disintegrate. He now knows for a _fact_ that he's not going to be able to hold back much longer... especially not at the rate things are going. "If you move a single fucking inch, I'm kicking your ass out." He warns, releasing his wrists and leaning back to rummage through his coffee table drawer. 

"Does talking count?" 

"It does now." 

He's just found what he's looking for when an incredibly high-pitched, incredibly _irritating_ hum starts to assault his eardrums. He slams the drawer shut and whips back around, flinching at the violent cracking sound that tells him he's going to need a new coffee table. 

_God-fucking- **damnit!**_

"You are _really_ starting to piss me the fuck off, flea!" 

"Only starting to? I must be losing my touch." 

"Do you _ever_ shut the fuck up?" 

"Only when you're not around to annoy." 

"Flea?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"Stop. Fucking. _Talking."_

Izaya knows he should cut his losses, but he can't help wanting to have the last word. "Make me, _Shizu-chan~!"_ He challenges in a sing-song voice, sticking his tongue out. 

_Big mistake._

Shizuo grabs him by the collar and yanks him forward, catching him in a fierce kiss that makes his already-tender lips start to chap and bleed. He pulls away so he can tug his undershirt up and over Izaya's head, shoving him back down so he can continue his oral assault; his fingers find and pinch a pair of pert pink nipples, the agonized groan he feels against his mouth causing him to pull away once more so he can capture one of them between his teeth. 

Izaya's fingers wind into his hair, his grip tightening when Shizuo starts to suck and lick at the sensitive nub. "H...nnn..." The blonde gives it one last little nip before moving his attention to the other rosy bud; his thumb rubbing against the one he's just abandoned, he flicks his tongue out against the one he'd been neglecting and sucks at it until it's a dark red and the grip on his head has tightened even more. Scooting back to pull his loose boxers down Izaya's thin hips, he lets out a low whistle at the sight of his inflamed cock. "Shit... that looks like it hurts." 

Izaya barely has the ability to move, let alone think of a witty retort. He's overstimulated and hypersensitive, even the slightest of sensations making him _twitch_... like the sweat dripping down his forehead, or the light draft tickling his bare skin. Shizuo almost feels sorry for him. 

_Almost._

Izaya hears what sounds like a plastic cap snapping open; Shizuo seems to be fumbling with something, but from this angle he can't quite figure out what it is. "Wha... what are you doing now?" 

No response. 

"Hey, I _asked_ you a question." 

Still no response. 

"Damn it, Shizu-- _oh._ Ohhhhh, oh, oh... _fuck..."_ He gasps, squirming as a slick finger slowly starts to slide into him. _"Fuck!"_

"That's the plan." Shizuo grins wolfishly, wiggling a second finger in with the first. "Though I _am_ still waiting on that please..." He twists his fingers in deeper, enthralled by the way Izaya whimpers and writhes underneath him. 

"Hnn...." 

"I mean, I _could_ just keep doing this until you pass out." He bluffs, knowing damn well he won't be able to last that long -- not when he's practically _aching_ to know how Izaya is going to feel around his cock. His fingers continue to twist and turn inside of him, faster and faster, harder and harder, until they hit a spot that has Izaya clawing at the sheets with his heels digging into the mattress. The sight of it takes Shizuo's breath away; it's _hypnotizing,_ the way Izaya's eyes squeeze shut and his teeth clench as he tries oh-so-very hard not to give up the last remaining remnants of his self-control. 

_"Fuck..._ fuck, _damn it."_ He breathes, his chest heaving. He can't take it anymore... this is _torture._ "Just... _do it_ already." 

"Nope." Shizuo starts to pull his fingers out at an agonizingly slow pace. "Not until you beg for it." 

"Hahaha... no. That's not happening." 

"Hah hah hah, yes it is. Beg." 

"Mmmm.... nope. Nuh-uh. Don't think so." 

"Beg, flea." 

"The fact that you think I'm actually going to listen to you is hilarious." This may not be the most... _dignified_... position Izaya's ever been in, but it'll be a cold day in hell before he stoops so low as to beg for anything from anyone -- let _alone_ the beast. 

"See, here's the thing, flea." Shizuo pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, hovering almost menacingly over the smaller man. "You _are_ gonna listen to me. Wanna know why?" 

Izaya has a feeling he's not going to like the answer. "Why?" 

"Cuz if you don't, I'm not gonna fuck you. And if I don't fuck you, _you_ don't get to come. Got it?" 

He was right... he really, _really_ doesn't like that answer. _"That's_ not _fair."_

"Yeah, well..." Shizuo grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back, causing him to hiss in pain and start prying at his fingers. He leans in closer, letting his lips ghost across Izaya's bared throat. _"Life's_ not fucking fair, is it?" he snarls, taking pleasure in the way the brunette shudders. 

_This is punishment, isn't it?_

Izaya knows he can't take much more of this. The pressure inside him is almost painful; his body is craving attention, craving contact, craving _release._

_I'm being **punished.**_

It figures. Oh, it fucking _figures._ Of _course_ Shizuo would hold his orgasm hostage. Of _course_ he would. He really should have seen this coming. He should have _expected_ this. The monster ruined _everything,_ from his plans to his pride... yet he still let this happen. He wishes he knew why -- why did he let him kiss him, let him touch him, let him _humiliate_ him? Why? _Why?_

Deep down, he already knows the reason. It's the same reason why he provokes him, the same reason why he torments him, the same reason why he mocks and taunts and jeers until he snaps and starts chasing him through the streets of Ikebukuro. 

_Because using and being used is the only way you know how to exist._

"Fuck," he chokes out. This is too much for him -- he can't handle it, can't _deal_ with it. _"Fuck,"_ he repeats, the word sounding like a cross between a sob and a chuckle. _"Fuck!"_ he gasps one last time, before he finally just _loses_ it. It's like someone's opened a floodgate, his entire body starting to shake as giggles began to pour from his mouth. 

Meanwhile, a very alarmed Shizuo is trying to figure out how to react to the sudden mood swing. "Um... are you... alright?" 

Izaya's giggles turn into full-on hysterical laughter. Is he alright? Is he _alright?!_ _"No!"_ He rasps, wildly shaking his head. "No, no, no I'm not!" 

"Okay..." It's not like Izaya to admit that anything's wrong, and that troubles Shizuo _more_ than the hysterics do. He peers down at him, a concerned look on his face. "Are you _gonna_ be?" 

His eyes are starting to water now, and he can't _breathe_ , but Izaya still manages to wheeze out another, "no, no I'm not!" in-between cackles. He isn't alright. Never has been, never will be. "But that's _okay."_ He stresses, more to himself than to Shizuo. "Because I don't _need_ to be." 

"If you say so..." 

"I do!" He reaches up to clap his hands against Shizuo's cheeks. "I do, I do, I do, I do, I do! But, but!" His laughter dies down until it stops completely, his shakes become less violent as his body relaxes, and his voice takes on a disturbingly calm tone for someone who’s just finished cracking up. "You know what I _do_ need?" 

"Professional help?" Shizuo is even more unsure of what to do than he’d been before. It's like Izaya's entire state of mind can change without a moment's notice; his emotions seem to shift every few seconds, going from one extreme to the next and then back again. He can't keep up... it's wearing him out. 

"Probably! But no, that's not what I meant." 

"Well, then I have no fucking clue, because _I'm_ not a mind reader." He's starting to get exasperated. Trying to get a handle on Izaya is like trying to get the right color out of a gumball machine; frustrating, time-consuming, and probably not worth it. 

Izaya smiles and beckons for him to come closer. For a second, he hesitates; there's no telling what the flea might do, especially now that he's even more unstable than usual. Still, he has to admit -- he's definitely curious. He leans in closer... and then closer, and closer, until he's so close that Izaya's lips are brushing against his ear. 

"I _need_ you... to _fuck_ me." 

Shizuo takes it back. This is _entirely_ worth it. "Fuck," he breathes, smashing their lips together as he impatiently fumbles to remove the rest of his clothes. Izaya is kissing him back with a feverish hunger, the taste of his tongue too intoxicating to think straight. He feels around for the lube again, squeezing it a little too excitedly when he finally finds it -- the bottle pops in his hand, clear liquid exploding all over the place. "Shut up..." He grumbles, wiping off most of it on his sweatpants before smearing what's left on his erection. 

"I didn't say anything," Izaya snickers, trying not to grin _too_ widely. 

"Yeah but you were fucking thinking it..." Shizuo mutters, scowling and mentally adding 'lube' to the ever-growing list of stuff he'll need to replace. 

"I thought you said you _weren't_ a mind reader?" There's a smirk on Izaya's lips that Shizuo really wants to smack off. "Tsk tsk tsk, Shizu-chan! Didn't anyone teach you that lying is bad?" 

If looks could kill, Izaya would be a dead man. Luckily for him, they can't... _unluckily_ for him, Shizuo is now incredibly irritated _and_ incredibly turned on. He forces Izaya's thighs wide open and positions himself between them. "Lift your fucking hips up." 

Izaya rolls his eyes. "Only because you asked _so_ nicely." He hooks his legs around Shizuo's waist and arches his hips, his lower body raising entirely off of the mattress as he stretches his arms back languidly. Shizuo isn't sure what does it; it might be the way Izaya's naked body is rubbing up against his, or the graceful way he arcs his spine, or maybe even the small smile on his smug little face that tells Shizuo he knows _exactly_ what he's doing... or it could be how much he's quivering, or the greedy look in his eyes, or the way he licks his lips in anticipation. Whatever it is, it's gotten Shizuo to the point where he just can't wait a single second longer. He slowly and carefully presses into him, groaning as he starts to sink into the tight, wet heat. 

_"Fuck,"_ Izaya wheezes. It feels like he's being stuffed; Shizuo is stretching him open as he pushes deeper and deeper into him, filling him more and more until he can barely breathe. He reaches his arms around him and pulls him close, burying his face in the crook of his neck as the blonde starts to move inside of him. 

"Nuh-uh," Shizuo manages to breathe out, twisting his fingers in Izaya's hair so he can pull his head back. "I wanna see your _face."_ he whispers against his ear. "I want to see every single expression you make while I'm fucking you, got it?" He grabs Izaya by the chin and forces him to look directly at him. _"Got it?"_ Shizuo's gaze bores into him, amber eyes too intense for comfort; he's never liked being stared at, being observed, being _scrutinized_ , and he likes even less that it's Shizuo... he's always been strangely intuitive for a hot-headed neanderthal, always been able to see right through him, always been able to make him feel like he was absolutely _exposed._ Even now, when Izaya hadn't thought it possible to even _get_ more exposed, Shizuo is still managing to make him feel like he's bared to the world. 

_Leave it to Shizu-chan to be able to strip me of my defenses, my pride, **and** my clothes. Bravo, beast. Bravo._

"Got it." He answers, his voice as bitter as his smile. 

"Good." Shizuo pulls out to the tip before slamming back in, forcing a cry out of Izaya's lips. He does the same thing again -- pulling out and slamming in -- and then does it again, and again, and again, until he's developed a steady rhythm that has Izaya cursing and clinging to his shoulders. Every plunge into that slick hole seems to feel even better than the last, and he quickly finds himself wanting more and more of the friction... he starts to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic the faster he he goes. 

"You... hah... really don't... _fuck..._ know the meaning of... of the word gentle, do you?" 

"Do you _want_ me to fuck you as hard as I can? Because I will." 

"I think... hah... I think I'll pass on that, thanks." A particularly deep thrust causes him to yelp in pain and dig his nails into Shizuo's back. It hurts. _Fuck,_ it hurts... but it's the kind of hurt that's more pleasurable than painful, the kind of hurt that makes him dizzy and delirious and drunk on desire. "Shizu... Shizu-chan. Shizu-chan!" 

"Wha-- _what?"_

_"Kiss me."_

Shizuo doesn't need to be told twice; Izaya lets out a pleased little mewl when he sweeps his tongue over his tender lips, parting them automatically so the kiss can become even more intimate as Shizuo continues to drive his cock deep and hard inside of him. A shift of hips and an accidental adjustment of angles has Shizuo hitting him in juuuuuust the right place at juuuuuust the wrong time, causing his body to tense and twitch as ecstasy washes over him and cum begins to spill from his cock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _Shizu-chan!"_

"Shit..." Shizuo groans against his lips, his thrusts becoming faster and more frenzied as Izaya tightens and pulses around him. "I didn't... hah... I didn't even have to fucking _touch_ you..." He breathes out, watching in amazement as spasm after spasm rocks Izaya's body. He's mesmerized by the way the brunette is writhing and whimpering underneath him; it's the most honest he's ever seen him, the most real, the most _raw._ There's not a single shred left of the Izaya he's used to, the ugly cruel Izaya that looks down his nose and plays with people like they're his pets. No, this Izaya... this Izaya is different. This Izaya is _radiant._

"Shut... shut... _hnnnn..."_

"What's that?" 

He's too exhausted to reply, so overloaded with sensations that his mind feels fuzzy and his body feels like it's being electrified. Shizuo is still pounding into him, hot and heavy and _hard,_ each slam of his hips bringing Izaya more and more bliss until he's coming once more, his eyes rolling back as his body convulses and a piercing cry of pleasure echoes through the room. It only takes a few more thrusts for the pressure building inside of Shizuo to reach its own crescendo, a loud _"fuck!"_ bursting from his lips when the explosion of pleasure pushes him over the edge; he bites down on Izaya's shoulder as he comes inside of him, filling him to the brim with his hot, sticky seed. 

"Fuck..." Shizuo pants, pressing their foreheads together. He knows he should probably get up and get cleaned off, but that requires moving and at that moment all he wanted to do was lay there on top of Izaya until his heart stopped racing and his lungs started to work again. "Oi, you... you alive?" 

"Mmm..." Is the best answer Izaya can muster. He's too worn, too weary; the softness of the futon and the comfort of Shizuo's warmth are making his eyelids feel heavy, and he's just too tired to try and fight them. 

"Okay, then... I'm just gonna... stay like this for a while..." 

There's no argument. There's not even a response. 

_Out like a light, huh?_

Shizuo studies the sleeping brunette's face. It's strangely serene... he looks almost angelic, almost peaceful, almost... _innocent._ "Hah...that's a fucking laugh..." He lightly brushes Izaya's hair out of his eyes, fingertips lingering on his cheek. No matter how much he wishes he could, he can't deny how beautiful he is; skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, hair as black as ebony -- he's like a goddamn Disney princess. 

_Or a vampire. He really needs to get more fucking sun._

He leans in and places a soft, gentle little kiss on his lips (and hopes that he actually _is_ asleep because he really doesn't want to have to explain himself), then sighs and rolls over off of him. If Izaya is Snow White, what does that make him? The fucking hunstman? He's no prince, that's for damn sure... 

He glances over at Izaya, feeling a pang of guilt as he takes note of every bruise, hickey, and bite-mark that now spotted his skin. He hadn't planned on leaving so many marks, but lust had clouded his mind and he'd let his instincts take over... just like a mindless animal. 

No. No, he isn't the huntsman. 

_I'm the big bad fucking wolf._


	10. The Morning After (Part 1)

Izaya's eyes blink open to the sound of birds chirping and his stomach rumbling. The storm must have ended at some point during the night; no clouds are stopping the early morning sunlight from peeking through the curtained windows, and that plus the warmer weather makes everything feel so peaceful and serene that Izaya's having trouble convincing himself not to just close his eyes and go back to sleep. It isn't until he remembers where he is that he's actually able to succeed.

_Oh no, oh no no no no no..._

The events of last night come rushing back with a startlingly vivid clarity, from the confrontation at Russia Sushi to the moment his eyes closed and he passed out from exhaustion. He wishes he could just brush it all off as a dream, but the proof of his bad life choices is snoring only inches away, completely naked and covered in scratches and crescent marks where his nails had dug desperately into his skin. 

_Shit..._

He starts to drag himself out of bed, the promise of an _actually_ warm bath to distract himself with enough to kickstart his motivation to get up… unfortunately, his body is so cramped and sore that it takes all of his energy just to sit up, and the mortification he feels when he discovers that he can barely move without more and more of the monster's _cum_ leaking down the back of his thighs is enough to make him want to be sick. 

_What have you done, what have you **done?!**_

He's spent years and _years_ doing everything he possibly can to avoid this exact scenario; years and years of pissing Shizuo off, pushing him away, _punishing_ him for the suffering his existence inflicted on him. Years and years of carefully building wall upon wall upon wall around himself until he was absolutely certain that his heart was locked up tight and that no one would ever find the key, years and years of choosing reason over risk, denial over desire, logic over love -- and all it had taken for him to spread his legs for the beast was a stolen kiss and a little bit of dirty talk. 

_Congratulations, Izaya! You have finally managed to ruin your **own** life for once, and you didn't even have to try! Aren't you **proud?**_

He exhales deeply and curls around one of Shizuo's neglected blankets, burying his face in the fluffy fabric as he squeezes it tightly against his chest. He doesn't want to believe any of this is real... he wants to believe that it's all just a nightmare, that when he closes his eyes he'll wake back up in the real world where everything is safe and familiar and last night never happened. 

_Despicable._

He squeezes his eyes shut and prays with all his heart that when they next opened, it would be his _own_ apartment he sees -- but something tells him he's going to be very, very disappointed. 

\------------- 

It takes a lot longer for Shizuo to wake up, a yawn stretching through his body as he fights his lethargy. He's always been a deep sleeper, but last night had been so exhausting that he might as well have been dead to the world. He wonders if the flea's still here... surely he's left already, right? He rolls over to check, and is surprised to see the brunette's sleeping body still lying there next to his, clinging to his bedspread like it’s a security blanket. His back is turned, but Shizuo doesn't need to see his face to tell that's something wrong -- just his closed off, withdrawn body language is cause enough for concern. 

His eyes take in every dark mark on his pale skin, his guilt digging its roots in even deeper when he realizes that they look worse now than they had the night before. Tentatively reaching out to brush his fingers over a particularly nasty neck bite, Shizuo jerks his hand back when the touch causes Izaya to instinctively tense up and pull the blanket over his head. 

_He... really is like a little kid, isn't he?_

He sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. He's not sure how this situation is going to affect their relationship, but he _does_ know that there's no going back to the way things were. He has no choice but to accept what has happened and start trying to figure out where to go from here... which is easier said than done, considering the fact that it also means figuring out exactly what it is he feels for the irritating little louse ( _and_ how to deal with him). 

_Not much I can do right now though, huh?_

He pushes himself up off the bed and pads over to the fridge. His throat is parched, and he's craving an ice cold glass of milk bad enough that he's imagining what it would be like to go swimming in an ocean of the stuff... unfortunately, he finds that there's only a few swallows left in the bottle. 

_God fucking damn it._

He shuts the door with a little too much force, flinching and whipping around to make sure the noise hasn't woken Izaya up. There doesn't seem to be any sign that it has, so he breathes a sigh of relief before digging around in his pile of laundry for a pair of clean, dry slacks and a button-up dress shirt. Milk isn't the only thing his fridge is lacking -- a quick trip to the corner market can't hurt, right? Besides, it's because of him that Izaya'd ended up abandoning his dinner at Russia Sushi... feeding him is the least he can do. He's tempted to wake the louse up and make him come with, but he decides that it would be better just to let him rest. He scribbles a quick note instead and spares him one last, wary glance before (as stealthily as he can manage) slipping out the front door and locking it behind him.


	11. The Morning After (Part 2)

When Izaya wakes up for the second time that morning, Shizuo is nowhere to be found. Panic immediately starts to build up in his chest as his brain scrambles to fill in the blanks, paranoia nagging at the back of his head; he's not exactly overjoyed at the idea of having to face the blonde right after what they'd done, but he's even _less_ overjoyed at the idea of being alone and defenseless in an apartment with next to no hiding spaces and only one entrance or exit. "Damn it, Shizu-chan..." He shifts into a sitting position and looks carefully around the room, sharp eyes searching for any clue to where Shizuo might have disappeared to. They land on a piece of notebook paper laying on the floor next to the coffee table that Izaya is _fairly_ certain wasn't there before. "What's this? Did the idiot actually think to leave a note?" He crawls over to the edge of the bed, stretching an arm out so he can retrieve the scribbled-on scrap; he's disappointed to find that he can't quite reach it, his fingertips barely able to touch the corner of the note. He frowns and scoots a little closer, once more reaching out in an attempt to make contact... which he does, at the same time that the sound of a key turning in the lock startles him enough to lose his balance and fall forward off of the bed with a startled _"oof!"_

Of all the things Shizuo is expecting to see when he opens his front door, an embarrassed (and still very naked) Izaya sprawled face down on the floor in an undignified position is _not_ one of them. 

"Not one word, beast." The brunette gripes, his voice muffled by the carpet. 

Shizuo can't even get angry at the familiar insult. The entire situation is so fucking pathetic that he almost feels sorry for him. _Almost._ "Need help?" He drops his bags on the ground and squats down in front of him, offering his hand with the most smug, shit-eating grin he can muster. The glare he gets in return is priceless. 

"I don't accept help from monsters." 

"Suit yourself." He stands up and retrieves the groceries, pausing only to kick off his shoes before heading into the kitchen to put them away. If the flea wants to be difficult, he'll let him... the only person he's hurting is himself. "But it's gonna be hard to eat with your ass in the air like that." 

"My ass _isn't_ in the air, _Shizu-chan."_ If Izaya wasn't already feeling like gouging Shizuo's eyes out, he would be now. "And I'm not hung--" It's at that moment that his stomach chooses to betray him, its loud, echoing grumble interrupting his attempted protest. "--ry..." 

_Damn it._

Shizuo snorts and waves what looks like a meat bun in the air. "Get up and you get one." 

"Shizu-chan isn't trying to poison me, is he?" 

"Hell no. You'll know damn well when I'm about to kill you, I ain't gonna take the fucking _coward's_ route." 

"Ahhhhh, Shizu-chan is just _sooo_ manly~!" Something about his false cheeriness seems even more off than usual to Shizuo... this is starting to become a pattern. 

_What the hell is he hiding?_

"Yep, that's me. Manly-man Shizuo." 

"Manly-man Shizu-chan sounds better. It rhymes!" 

His eye twitches, and he has to pinch the bridge of his nose and take a deep breath to stop from snapping. Why does the flea have to be so goddamn fucking irritating? He didn't even have to get him anything -- he could have just let him starve. _Should_ have just let him starve. "If you don't eat the fucking thing, I will. Are you gonna get up or naw?" 

"...I'm considering it." 

"...considering it?" Shizuo had expected him to want to get off the floor and into some dry clothes as soon as he was given the chance... in fact, Shizuo had _hoped_ he'd want to get off the floor and into some dry clothes as soon as he was given the chance. He may currently be winning the struggle between him and his lack of impulse control, but that's getting increasingly harder to do the more annoyed he gets. "What is there to consider? Just get up." 

_Shizu-chan really is a stupid beast, isn't he?_

"You know I'd actually love to! Buuuuuut there's a minor problem with that." 

"Yeah?" Shizuo raises an eyebrow. "And that is?" 

Izaya sighs and rolls onto his back, letting his arms and legs flop to his sides like a rag doll's. "I don't wanna." 

"...you can't, can you?" 

"..." 

"You can't get up!" 

"I can too! I'm just... comfortable." 

"Bullshit." The smug grin is back, matching the delighted look in Shizuo's amber eyes. It reminds Izaya of some of the expressions he himself has made before... back when he was the one that held all the cards. "You refused my help and now you can't get up, but you're too fucking stubborn to admit it -- so _now_ you're fucking stuck." 

"..." 

"If I'm wrong, just stand up and prove it. Not that hard, right?" 

"....." 

"Unless you can't." 

"......" 

"Because I'm right." 

"........." 

"I'm fucking right aren't I?" 

"............." 

"I fucking knew it." He shakes his head and sets the bun down on a napkin. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Absolutely fucking ridiculous." 

"Shut the hell up." 

"Nope, nuh-uh." He strides over to Izaya and pulls him up easily by the forearm, maneuvering him towards the futon with a firm grip until his knees have hit the edge and he's toppled backwards onto the mattress. Shizuo doesn't miss the tiny wince that accompanies the fall... _nor_ does he miss the sticky white mess between Izaya's thighs ( _his_ sticky white mess between Izaya's thighs). He swallows hard and closes his eyes ( _deep breaths, deep breaths_ ) before swiftly turning on his heel and making a beeline for the kitchen. "You never shut up when _I_ tell you to, so _I'm_ not gonna shut up when _you_ tell me to. Got it?" 

Izaya sighs deeply and rolls over onto his stomach. "Fine... if I must." 

"Good." He holds the meat bun back up. "Now you can either come here and get this, or I can throw it at you." 

"Ooh, I've never had _meat bun_ pancakes before~!" 

"There's gonna be a _you_ pancake if you don't cut it out!" 

"Scary, scary! Shizu-chan is so scary, ahhh!" 

The bun bursts in his hand, meaty doughy goop squeezing out from in-between his fingers. Shizuo stares at the gooey mess as Izaya bursts into obnoxious giggles, a vein on his forehead starting to throb in warning. "Flea..." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just... the look on your face!" 

_"Flea..."_

"You looked so surprised, I wish I could have gotten a picture--" 

_"Flea!"_

"It was so absolutely adorable, _now_ I want to pinch your cute little chee--" His words are cut off sharply by the sticky remnants of his destroyed dinner being smushed against his face; he can hear Shizuo sniggering, and that irritates him _far_ more than a little food in his hair. He demonstrates this by scooping as much goo off his face as he can before flinging it at Shizuo's head, smirking in satisfaction when it hits him hard enough to smack his stupid glasses right off his nose and his infuriating grin right off his face. There's a long pause as the two of them stare at each other -- Izaya's almost certain that Shizuo's going to be the first to break, that he'll snap and let his anger take the wheel just like he always does -- but when the blonde bursts out laughing instead, it's _his_ turn to look surprised. "Shizu-chan?" 

"We're _both_ fucking ridiculous." 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You and me. We're both ridiculous." He offers his hand again, and this time Izaya's curious enough to take it. "Come on." 

"Where?" He questions warily, allowing Shizuo to pull him to his feet anyway. It's not like he can really do much to stop him, even if he wanted to. 

"Bathroom." 

"The _bathroom?_ Why?" 

"Because you stink and need a fucking shower." 

Izaya does not like being messy. _Animals_ are supposed to be messy. _Garbage_ is supposed to be messy. _Food_ is supposed to be messy. Him? He isn't supposed to be messy. He's supposed to be _clean,_ because cleanliness is next to godliness and that means that the _last_ thing he wants to hear is the monster reminding him of how absolutely disgusting he currently is. "Like you're any better." He snaps defensively, red coloring his cheeks. 

"Never said I was." Shizuo swoops him up without warning and carries him to the bathroom, dropping him in the tub before he can lash out. He turns the tap on and makes sure the water is warm enough before plugging the drain, then turns and starts to strip out of his clothes. 

_I probably should have showered **before** I got dressed..._

"You aren't honestly planning on bathing _with_ me, are you?" Izaya asks, his voice incredulous. 

"Yeeeeep." 

"There's not enough room!" 

"Don't care." 

"You can't be serious." 

"Scootch." Shizuo nudges Izaya's back with his knee, but the brunette has decided to make damn sure that Shizuo knows just how unhappy he is with the situation by doing everything _but_ what he wants. He scowls and nudges harder, a warning that he's willing to use force if necessary. 

Izaya eventually gives in and shifts forward so Shizuo can slide in behind him, his breath hitching in his throat when warm arms wrap around his waist and pull him back against the other man’s chest. He lets out a shaky, breathy laugh when he feels something hard start to rub against his bare ass -- Shizu-chan's breath is hot and heavy on his neck, one hand creeping up his thigh while the other glides up his stomach. "And now the beast's ulterior motives come to light." He sighs mockingly, feigning exasperation as he leans his head back against the other's shoulder. Shizuo takes that as an invitation to start peppering his bared throat with surprisingly gentle kisses, lightly brushing his lips over every bite mark and hickey that he'd left on the other's pale skin. Izaya can feel his cheeks start to heat up, goosebumps starting to spread across his flesh; Shizuo's touch is different than before, softer and more hesitant... like he's afraid that if he isn't careful, he'll break the smaller man into a million tiny pieces. "While your uncharacteristic caution _is_ somewhat endearing, I don't recall asking for it." 

"Huh?" 

"I'm not made of glass. I don't need to be handled with care." 

Shizuo stops what he's doing and stares down at Izaya with a confused frown on his face. Yesterday the damn louse had been complaining that he _wasn't_ being gentle, and now he's complaining that he _is?_

_There's no fucking winning with him, is there?_

Fine. If Izaya's going to be difficult, so is he. He wants him to stop being gentle? Too fucking bad. He needs to learn that you can't always get what you want, and Shizuo is more than happy to be the one to teach him that. "So?" 

_"So_ I'd appreciate it if you..." He flinches when a finger brushes over one of his nipples, a shudder running up his spine. "If you..." 

"If I...?" Shizuo flicks his tongue out against his ear and slides his other hand between Izaya's legs, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips when Izaya gasps and involuntarily jerks into the touch. He lightly drags a finger up his shaft, pausing to rub his thumb almost soothingly over the slit of his head. He's loving the way Izaya is twitching and shivering, his skin already flushed and feverish... he wasn't expecting his teasing to have _this_ much of an impact, the brunette more responsive to the tiny barely-there touches than he'd been to the rough treatment he'd received the night before. 

"Damn it, Shizu-chan..." Izaya breathes out in frustration, squirming in the stronger man's arms as he continues to toy with him. He doesn't like how Shizuo's the one in control, or how a few gentle caresses has him reduced to a trembling mess -- he has to turn this around somehow, _has_ to be the one to come out on top. "That's a little unfair, don't you think?" 

"Since when did you ever play fair?" 

"That's... a very good point, Shizu-chan." There's a sly smile on his face that makes Shizuo slightly nervous; it's the kind of smile he has when he's plotting something, or when he knows something you don't. "Could you let go of me for a second?" 

"Why..." 

"Don't worry, I won't go anywhere! I just want to get more comfortable." 

Shizuo narrows his eyes suspiciously, searching Izaya's face for any clue to what he's thinking. When he doesn't find any, he gives him a look of warning and loosens his hold. If the bastard decides to try anything, it's not like he can't just grab him again. There's a few seconds of pause before anything happens, and Shizuo almost thinks he's changed his mind when Izaya moves, leaning forward to shut off the bathwater (it's taking forever to fill up, anyway) before turning around to face him. He swallows when he sees the mischievous glint in his dark eyes, something about them causing his cock to twitch in anticipation. Izaya doesn't bother trying to contain his own excitement as he climbs onto Shizuo's lap and straddles his hips, a soft moan slipping past his lips when their erections rub together and the blonde lets out a low groan of pleasure. He grinds forward, laughing when Shizuo growls and roughly grabs his waist. He wraps his arms around the other's neck and pulls him down for a kiss, his still-tender lips moving fiercely against Shizuo's as he continues to grind down on him. 

_"Fuck,_ flea..." He breathes the words against his mouth while he gropes clumsily at Izaya's ass. "Are you really _that_ desperate for my cock?" 

The arms around his neck tense up for a moment, and there's a flicker of something on Izaya's face he just barely catches before the mask is back in place. 

"Desperate? No. Bored..." Izaya shifts further forward on Shizuo's lap, pressing himself flush against the other's toned stomach. His fingers twist into bleached locks and tug Shizuo closer, his teeth nipping playfully at his earlobe. _"...very much so."_ He wiggles his hips back until he feels Shizuo between his cheeks, a nervous giggle escaping him as he adjusts to let the precum-dripping head rub his now-twitching hole. Shizuo watches with wide eyes, a mix of fascination and arousal on his face; Izaya is biting his lower lip, cheeks red and eyes shut tight, as he starts to slowly sink down onto his hard, throbbing cock. The blonde moans out a strained _"shit..."_ and bucks up reflexively into the tight heat, his fingers digging into Izaya's soft flesh with a bruising pressure. 

_"Fuck,_ Shizu-chan!" Izaya chokes out, gasping for air. "A little... a little warning next time might be..." _Breathe, Izaya._ "...might be nice." 

"S... sorry..." He responds shakilly. Izaya's almost tempted to believe him. 

"Save your sorry's for someone who wants them, Shizu-chan." He pats the blonde's cheeks, laughing and yanking his hands away when Shizuo tries to grab them. "Too slow~!" 

"You really don't wanna piss me off right now, flea." 

"Don't I?" He smiles coyly and places his hands on Shizuo's shoulders, using them to lift himself up and unfold his legs. He stretches them out on either side of the larger man, flashing him a sinfully wicked grin before leaning back on his hands and opening his thighs. 

_Woah._

Shizuo swallows hard for what seems like the hundredth time, so worked up and turned on that he's having to fight not to just pin him down and start pounding into him. The only thing really keeping him from doing so is curiosity -- but curiosity is enough, especially when what he's curious about has the irritating little asshole spreading his legs like a slut. That curiosity is rewarded when Izaya tentatively starts to ride him, his pulsing walls squeezing tightly around him; he moves slow at first, almost too slow, but the look of aroused concentration on his face paired with the pleased little sounds he's making has Shizuo too drunk on lust to care. He thrusts up just as Izaya grinds down, the sudden burst of pleasure causing the smaller man to cry out and tighten almost painfully around the hard cock stabbing his prostate. "Sh... Shi... zu... _AH!"_ He cries out again when Shizuo snaps his hips hard enough for him to almost slip off of him before yanking him back down to meet another, particularly powerful thrust. _"HNN!"_

"Fuck..." Shizuo tightly grips Izaya's hips before thrusting up yet again... then again, and again, and again, harder and harder, faster and faster, until the sound of skin slapping against skin is so loud Shizuo can barely hear Izaya's strangled gasps and moans. _"Flea."_

"Yes?" Is the groaned reply. 

_"Touch yourself."_

The indignant glare he gets in response just makes him chuckle and start pounding into him even faster, a hungry look in his eyes as he watches pain and pleasure contort Izaya's pretty face. 

"I hate you..." The shivering brunette manages to choke out, reaching between them to wrap his shaking fingers around his neglected erection. "I hate you... hn... so much..." 

"I know." Shizuo licks his lips and leans back, continuing an even pace as Izaya bites his lip and starts to slide his palm up and down his length. "I hate you too." Izaya is too overwhelmed and overstimulated to notice that the familiar words are said almost as an afterthought, sweat tickling his brow as he strokes himself to Shizuo's frenzied rhythm. His mind is clouded with sensation, ecstacy sparking like electricity across his skin; he starts to match Shizuo's movements, riding him almost desperately as he works himself closer and closer to completion. "You gonna cum?" Shizuo breathes, speeding up slightly... Izaya's breath quickens, his free hand curling into a fist so tight his knuckles turn white. He starts to stroke himself with even more ferver, determined to finish before the mangy dog gets the idea to hold his orgasm hostage again. 

"Izaaaayaaaaa..." 

He ignores him, pumping himself with even more speed and pressure; he's not going to let the monster ruin this, not this time -- fortunately (or maybe unfortunately?), Shizuo's too close himself to continue teasing him. He chooses that moment to start slamming repeatedly into Izaya's prostate, a startled gasp leaving Izaya's lips when his climax hits him suddenly and violently, his cum exploding over his hand. The blonde just keeps pounding into him, not once slowing down until he's reached his own peak and shot even more of his seed inside of Izaya's quivering body. "Fuck...." Shizuo gingerly lifts Izaya's hips and pulls out slowly and carefully, collapsing in exhaustion against the tiled shower wall. He glances down at the murky water and wrinkles his nose. "So much for a bath... gross." 

Izaya stares at him like he's grown a second head that more closely resembles a pile of shit than a person -- the disgust in his expression could have made the Pope feel like he needed a shower. "Yes... it _is_ gross. Isn't it?" He tilts his head to the side and smiles sarcastically, as if Shizuo has said something even more idiotic than usual. 

"Yeah, that's why I fucking said it was." 

"Which is why _I_ would like to take a shower now." 

"Okay?" 

"By myself, preferably." 

"Oh. Uh... okay." He stands up and reaches for his towel, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern. Izaya suddenly seems to be very interested in the ingredients in his body wash... and while he may not be the most _advanced_ person in the world, he's still smart enough to tell that the flea is purposefully trying to avoid looking in his direction. "Uh... I'll be out there, then." 

"Considering you live in a studio apartment, I should hope so." 

He contemplates retorting with something equally spiteful, but settles for an eye roll instead. "Whatever. If you fall asleep and end up drowning, don't come crying to me." 

"If I fall asleep and end up drowning, I won't be able to." He yanks the curtain shut as soon as Shizuo's stepped out of the tub, signifying the end of their conversation and the beginning of his alone time. 

Shizuo frowns, a bad feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach. 

_Why do I have a feeling that something is very, very wrong?_


	12. Fear

_Crimson eyes flutter open to the sound of deafening silence, widening in fear and confused desperation as they take in the heart-stopping sight of a destroyed Ikebukuro. The scarlet-flooded battleground seems to stretch in every direction, nothing but rotting bodies and severed limbs for what must have been miles. He pushes himself up, grimacing in disgust when his palm squishes into something moist and cold and disgusting.He doesn't want to think about what it might be._

_He wipes the offending mush off onto his dirt-covered pants and shakily tries to stand, his legs and arms as weak as jelly. The smell of death and decay is overwhelmingly strong, the vile stench torturing his nostrils. He surveys the scene, trying to find even the slightest sign of life among the sea of corpses -- but there's nothing, not a single twitch of a finger or groan of pain no matter how much he's starting to wish for one. He takes a step forward, pausing when something crunches under his foot. It doesn't sound like bone -- it sounds like metal, or glass, or plastic. Something manmade. He looks down hesitantly, his blood running cold when he recognizes the familiar pair of specs his friend (his_ ** _only_** _friend) has worn since high school._

_**Had.** _

_"No... no no no no no..."_

_But he's already caught sight of the scarlet-stained lab coat, already caught sight of the shiny steel stethoscope, already caught sight of the way Shinra's body lies limp and lifeless on the mud-soaked earth. He backs away quickly -- too quickly -- tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass next to yet another horrifyingly familiar face. No... not just one. Two. Two faces. Two horrifyingly_ ** _identical_** _faces, as still and expressionless as a pair of twin dolls._

_**You were supposed to protect them.** _

_He does the only thing he knows how to do..._

_...he runs._

_He runs and runs and runs until his throat is dry and his lips are chapped and his lungs are burning, his feet growing heavier and heavier every time they slam against the ground. It feels like he's moving through molasses, slow and thick and suffocating. He can't breathe. He **needs** to breathe. He doesn't want to die. He sees it then, a sparkling crystal pond that sticks out from the rest of the ruined city like a glimmering diamond surrounded by nothing but dirt and shit. A statue of a winged woman stands almost ominously in the middle, as if guarding the sky-blue waters; his common sense is screaming at him not to go any closer, but he's too thirsty and tired to resist the temptation of the strange urban oasis. He just wants to survive. He just wants to **exist.** He falls to his knees at the pond's edge and greedily gulps at the water; it's cool, and crisp, and clear... it's everything he had hoped for and more, quenching his thirst and drawing life back into his limbs and resolve back into his bones. He can do this. He can get a handle on this. He can -- _

__

__

_There's a flash of something out in the water that immediately draws his attention, something bright and colorful and shimmering. It takes him a second to realize it's a koi fish. It takes him_ **_another_** _second to realize it's a_ **_dead_** _koi fish._

**_Eyes are the window to the soul._**

_The koi's are like black holes, dark and empty and hollow. His stomach starts to churn, fear and repulsion sending icy shivers down his back. Another flash catches his attention... then another, and another, and another, as more koi start to bob and float to the surface. They stain the pond a nasty shade of red, their beady lifeless eyes watching as he keels over and empties his stomach of its now-bloody contents. He wants to scream, but his voice catches in his throat and chokes him until panic has him on his feet and running again._

**_You can't escape yourself._**

_He's not expecting a corpse to grab his ankle -- he can't regain his footing in time to stop it from yanking him down, more hands grabbing at his arms and legs and wrists and whatever else they can get a hold on. He fights -- of course he fights -- but he's exhausted and he hurts and he's_ **_scared._** _They pin him down and tear at his hair and clothes, exposing bare skin mottled with ugly bruises and savage teeth marks._

**_You can't even escape_ _him._**

_The statue is suddenly looming over him, only now he can see her for what she truly is. He giggles deliriously as his valkyrie casually takes off her head and tucks it under her arm like it's the winged helm it wore._

**_Do you honestly think someone like you can go to Valhalla?_**

_His manic laughter turns into screams when jagged teeth rip into his throat, poisoning him with a pitch-black venom that flows like acid through his veins. He struggles desperately, clawing and kicking and flailing until he's able to wrench free and make a break for it. He doesn't bother looking back to see if any of them are following. He doesn't want to know if they are._

**_Someone that's a liar._**

_There's a brightly shining rainbow ahead, a stark contrast to the dark world he's fleeing from. It draws him in like a moth to a flame, the promise of something existing beyond this hellish warground igniting a spark of hope in his heart._

**_Someone that's a coward._**

_He sprints up the rainbow like a child sprints up a slide, slipping on the slick surface as he tries to climb high above the putrid masses. He kicks his shoes off, bare feet gripping better than the soles of his boots._

**_Someone that's weak._**

_The same shadowy darkness coating his skin begins to leak into the arc's vibrant hues, the blight corrupting and corroding its colors until they begin to crack and crumble underneath his weight. Fear has him clambering franticly up the slope towards the stormy clouds above, nails scraping painfully against the flawlessly smooth expanse when he loses his balance and starts to skid backwards towards the death and devastation below._

**_You know, we have a word for people like you._**

_The black rainbow shatters and he screams in terror as he suddenly finds himself plummeting to the ground, a sickeningly soft pile of corpses cushioning his fall. A fleeting feeling of relief is immediately snuffed out by countless cold hands slowly dragging him down into the writhing mess of faceless bodies, his vision blurring as he starts to suffocate under the dead weight._

**_Argr._**

_She stares down at him as he struggles uselessly for freedom, her ethereally beautiful face distorted by scorn and revulsion. The slur appears like a brand on his chest, searing his skin with a white-hot agony that has salty tears stinging his cheeks._

**_It hurts, doesn't it? The truth._**

_He doesn't answer. He_ **_can't_** _answer. He's too exhausted, his mind fading in and out of consciousness._

**_So why don't you do your precious humans a favor..._**

_He chokes out one last bitter, defeated laugh._

**_...and just stop existing._**

_He closes his eyes and lets the whole world go black._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old Norse culture had a love/hate relationship with homosexuality. It was perfectly fine to have sex with another man if you were the "active" partner... however, if you were the "passive" partner, you might as well have given yourself a social (and possibly even a literal) death sentence. There was a very heavy focus on strength and self-reliance when it came to personal honor and ethics; the Nords believed that a man that allowed himself to be used sexually was too weak and cowardly to fight his own battles or make his own decisions, and was therefore unworthy of the same rights and respect as everyone else. The term argr means "unmanly, cowardly, and effeminate" and was one of several insults used to describe men who acted (whether willingly or not) as the "woman" during homosexual intercourse. To be argr was so shameful that it was legitimately okay to fucking kill someone for falsely accusing you of it. What's more, if you _didn't_ attempt to defend yourself and deny the accusation, they would assume that meant it was true and you'd get fucking outlawed. _Outlawed._ Since the Vikings believed only warriors who died in battle could enter Valhalla, it stands to reason that they wouldn't consider anyone argr to be worthy of joining them in the afterlife. At least... that's _my_ take on it.


	13. Humpty Dumpty's Great Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings:** intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, self-harm, blood, emetophobia, homophobic terminology, violence, adult themes, I have a lot of issues, yadda yadda yadda. I'm probably going to stop tagging a lot of the repeat things... have I scared you all off yet? Gosh, I'm sorry. I'm total trash.

Izaya is no stranger to nightmares. In fact, you might even say he's used to them; his vivid imagination, above-average I.Q, and paranoid tendencies like to mix together and poison his dreams with his fears and insecurities. Usually he's able to just write them off and go on with his day... but after hours upon hours of laying in bed tightly wrapped in his blankets like a burrito, he's forced to accept that the awful ugly feelings in his heart aren't going to go away anytime soon.

_I hate this._

He'd left Shizuo's shortly after his bath, slipping out silently while the blonde was on the phone with his employer. The trek home was difficult, painful, and would have been mortifying had he ran into anyone he knew -- but luckily he hadn't, so he was able to make it back to his apartment without incident. The first thing he'd done after walking in the front door was kick off his shoes and drag himself up the stairs, into his room, and onto his bed -- which was the worst mistake he could have made, because his mattress had been soft and warm and he was just _soooooo_ tired... and then next thing he knew, he was wide awake and rushing for the bathroom so he could empty his stomach into the toilet instead of all over his bed (not that there was a whole lot in there to empty, considering he hadn't eaten in over 24 hours). 

_No thanks to Shizu-chan._

His sorry excuse for a nap had done nothing but add to his weariness; he'd been able to scrape up just enough energy to shrug off his jacket, crawl back into bed, and pull the covers over his head -- but not enough to do anything other than lay there anxiously, too freaked out to try and go back to sleep. 

_I hate **him.**_

This is all Shizuo's fault. Had he never existed, Izaya would have been fine. He would have been content. He would have been _safe!_ Safe from hate, safe from hurt, safe from heartache... safe from _all_ of it. 

"Why? Why can't I just kill you?" he grumbles wearily to himself. "All I'd have to do is poison a glass of milk... you'd die, and I'd be happy." Theoretically, of course... there's no way to really know for sure if poison would even _work_ on the monster. For all Izaya knows, he could be immune. 

_Maybe I should just drink it myself._

It's a morbid thought, but he can't help but wonder what would happen if he did. How long would his body sit there rotting before somebody finally found it? Who would it be? How would they react? What kind of expression would they have on their face? Who would they tell first, what would they say, how quick would it spread, what _impact_ would it _have?_

Would it even have one at all? 

He sighs and rolls over, wincing when something under him digs into his side. He fumbles around until he finds the offending object. It's his switchblade; it must have fallen out of his pocket while he was still dreaming, and he just hadn't noticed it until now. He kicks off his covers and sits up, gazing down at the knife thoughtfully as he rubs his thumb over the smooth handle. 

_Hmm..._

He twirls it between his fingers before flicking it open, admiring the way the moonlight glints off the steel. He'd gotten this particular knife in middle school, right after his own weakness had put the only person who'd ever bothered trying to be his friend in the emergency room. A pinch of curiosity, a dash of deviance, and a ~~hefty~~ moderate serving of guilt had spurred him into taking the fall for it. It had turned out to be a wise decision in the end; he'd made a decent amount of connections during his brief time in detainment, and Nakura had been so afraid of retribution that he'd all but _groveled_ for forgiveness the next time he saw him at school. And Izaya _had_ forgiven him... for the attack itself, at least. The way said attack had made him _feel,_ however... 

_Angry. Afraid. Ashamed._

...well. _That_ he will never forgive. 

He hadn't actually ended up _using_ the knife until high school, when a certain _MONSTER_ had decided that mindless violence was an _appropriate_ response to a perfectly civil (albeit snarky) introduction. He'd ended up using it a second time later that night... right after he'd finished masturbating to the thought of the other boy's _freakishly_ strong hands wrapping around his slender neck. 

_And now you've actually **slept** with him. Good **going,** Izaya! Way to **disgrace** yourself!_

He shoves his sleeve up past his elbow and irritably inspects the most recent damage. The bruises from the other night are dark enough to hide the faded old scars his teenage self had left him with; he's always hated the sight of them, they remind him too much of reality. 

_I wonder if anyone would care if I added a few more._

Izaya's spent years playing with people's heads, baiting them with their hopes and dreams until they've been caught hook, line, and sinker. He's ruined so many friendships, destroyed so many lives, and betrayed so many people that he can't think of a single individual that might consider him worthy of sympathy... not that he'd want it if they did. 

_Sympathy is just pity in prettier packaging._

He presses the sharp blade against his skin and unflinchingly drags it across his wrist. The pain is almost intoxicating; the endorphin rush is making him feel dizzy and light-headed, and he can feel a sense of serenity start to cloud his mind... and then it's gone, a fleeting feeling of relief replaced by regret, remorse, and repulsion. 

_'Liar.'_

_'Coward.'_

_'Weak.'_

He's trembling too hard to cut straight, but he damn well tries anyway. 

_'You know, we have a word for people like you.'_

"Ár..." Izaya mutters under his breath. "Reið. Kaun. Yr." He carves the crude letters into his flesh one at a time, purposefully going slow enough to prolong the pain as much as possible. 

_ᛅ. ᚱ. ᚴ. ᛦ._

_A. R. G. R._

He stares wordlessly down at his arm, his face as blank as a department store mannequin. 

_'Do you honestly think someone like you can go to Valhalla?'_

Every scheme he's ever orchestrated, every risk he's ever taken, every _human_ he's ever had to push away... it was all to make sure he stayed ahead of the game, and now it feels like he's just been disqualified. He laughs... and laughs... and laughs... and laughs... and laughs. He laughs until his laughter starts to turn into tears and his tears start to spill from his eyes. "I... I can't do this..." He doesn't know how. 

_'Let grief convert to anger.'_

"I can't _DO_ this!" 

_'Blunt not the heart...'_

He chucks his knife across the room as hard as he can, scowling when it hits his closet door and shatters the affixed mirror into dozens of tiny glittering pieces. 

_'Enrage it.'_

"Macbeth... Act 4, Scene 3." He flops back down and links his fingers beneath his head, gazing glumly up at the ceiling as he mulls over what to do. He knows he should probably get up and take care of his new wounds before they can get infected or seep into the memory foam mattress, but the first aid kit is all the way in the kitchen and he doesn't really feel like getting up just to go get it. After a short internal struggle, he decides to do it anyway. He doesn't see himself falling asleep anytime soon; the least he can do is put his mind to something more productive than pointless rumination. 

_I think there might be a few dishes in the sink that need to be washed... and my bookshelves could probably use a little reorganizing. Luckily I still have some of that instant coffee left..._

He forces all the unnecessary thoughts out of his head and sluggishly makes his way down to the kitchen. 

_...I have a feeling I'm going to need it._


	14. The Fox and the Hound

[There's a rumor that you were seen leaving Russia Sushi with Izaya. It's not true is it?]

Shizuo lets out a heavy sigh. He's had a shit day; he hasn't seen or heard from Izaya since their more-than-a-little unexpected rendevouz, but instead of feeling relieved he's actually starting to get worried. His bad feeling has only gotten worse, growing and growing until it had become distracting enough that he'd actually managed to fail at his job and allow the debtor to escape without a scratch. He'd run into Celty on his way home, who'd immediately noticed his bad mood and asked if he wanted to talk for a bit. He'd said yes, but now... "Yeah. It's true." 

[If that's a joke, it's not very funny.] 

"Why the hell would I joke about something like that?" 

[I don't know. That's why I asked.] 

"Well, it's not a joke. It's the truth. We even talked... a little." He clears his throat, hoping to god that he doesn't look as guilty as he feels. 

If he does, Celty doesn't seem to notice. She simply tilts her "head," her curiosity more than a little piqued. The news is hard to believe, but Shizuo is probably the most honest person she knows... so if he says that he and the informant had talked, then that's what must have happened. Still... [Really?] 

"Really." 

[Really really?] 

"Really really." 

[Really really really?] 

"Really really really. I saw him in Russia Sushi and decided to just walk right in and sit down next to him." He grins when he remembers the shocked look Izaya had had on his face. "Bought him a drink, too." 

A surprised shadow puffs out of Celty's throat. [How did _that_ go?!] 

"That's... it's..." 

[It's...?] 

Shizuo's throat feels dry, and for a moment he actually considers telling her the truth. He certainly wants to; he hates keeping secrets, it feels like lying and he's _never_ been good at lying... but as much as he dislikes the little fuck, he can't deny the fact that telling the truth involves outing both him _and_ Izaya -- and while _he's_ used to being judged, ridiculed, and attacked for no good goddamn fucking reason, there's no way in hell the flea would be able to handle the same treatment. "...complicated." 

[Complicated? How?!] She types frantically, as if her thoughts are moving too fast for her fingers to keep up. [Are you okay?! He didn't do anything to you, did he?] 

"Nah, we just... got a lot of issues to work through, you know?" It's the understatement of the century, but it's the best answer he can come up with at the moment that doesn't involve him stooping to the flea's level. 

There's a pause as Celty considers the news. She doesn't trust Izaya, but she knows Shizuo can take care of himself. [I'm... not sure I understand... but I respect your decision. I won't pry any further, but please know that I'm here if you need to rant. I'm a pretty good listener. ] 

"I bet. Thanks, Celty." 

[No problem. That's what friends are for, right? :)] 

"Yeah..." There's something gnawing at him, something uncomfortable that steals the light from his smile. "Right..." 

[...is something wrong?] 

He wishes he knew. "Maybe... I dunno... I think I'm gonna go try and figure that out. Talk to you later, yeah?" 

She regards him for a second, then nods. [Yeah. Take care, Shizuo. Text me if you need anything.] 

"Will do. Drive safe." 

Celty gives him a thumbs up before revving Shooter's engine and taking off. He waves, waiting until she's out of sight to light up a cigarette and take a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong drag. He _said_ he was going to go figure it out -- but he's not sure how to actually go about doing that. He doesn't have Izaya's number, so it's not like he can just call and check on him... and even if he could, what's to say the stubborn bastard wouldn't just hang up on him? "Oh, fuck it." He takes his wallet out of his back pocket and makes sure he has enough money for train fare. 

_Looks like I'm going to Shinjuku._

\------------- 

_...I'm bored._

In retrospect, Izaya really shouldn't have expected his cleaning spree to last very long. Most of his apartment was already tidy thanks to his _darling_ secretary's hard work, and the rest had only required a few touch-ups. He'd spent an hour or so in the bath after that, only getting out once the water had become too cold to be comfortable... and now all that's left for him to do is wait for his laundry to be done, which he had stupidly forgotten to actually start until he was already out of the tub. 

_Maybe there's something on T.V. At the very least, some background noise won't hurt._

He's just settled down on the couch, his remote in his hand and his knees tucked into his hoodie, when he hears the intercom buzz. His brow furrows. 

_I'm not **expecting** visitors..._

He cautiously pads over to the intercom and presses the button. "It's a bit late for a business call, isnt it? Can I help you?" 

The voice that answers is muffled, but recognizable enough that his heart starts pounding the moment he hears it. _"Yeah, you can buzz me in."_

_Stay calm stay calm stay --_ "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't hear you. What was that?" 

_"Bullshit. Let me in."_

"Hello? Anyone there?" 

_"Flea..."_

"Hello? HellooOOOoo~?" 

_"I don't have the patience for your fucking games, Izaya. Let me the fuck in, or I let myself in."_

"..." 

_"You have 'til the count of three before I start to get angry. One...."_

"..." 

_"Two...."_

**_*BZZT*_**

_"See? Not so hard. What's your apartment number?"_

"..." 

_"I guess I could just kick down every door until I find you..."_

"How are you even talking to me right now if you don't have my apartment number? You need that to access the intercom." 

_"The security guard keyed it in for me after I threatened to bash his head in. Are you gonna tell me or do I have to -- "_

"After you threatened to -- _ugh,_ fine. But keep your voice down, don't talk to anybody, don't _touch_ anything --" 

_"How am I supposed to use the fucking elevator if I can't touch anything?!"_

He winces when Shizuo's pitch starts to raise. He's already going to have to pay off the security guard -- he really, really, _really_ doesn't need anyone else finding out that the beast is here. "You can touch the elevator buttons... just do so _lightly."_

_"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Number."_

"It amazes me sometimes that you even have the capacity to form polysyllabic sentences. Ninth floor, Suite A." 

He doesn't receive an answer. He can't say he's surprised. 

Less than five minutes later, the beast is standing in his living room. "Whatever do you need, Shizu-chan~?" He asks, the lightness in his tone discordant with the dark look in his eyes. He crosses his arms and cocks his hip, the curl of his lips wavering between a sneer and a scowl. 

Shizuo almost seems to be struggling with himself before he finally answers, his response catching Izaya off-guard. "I was... worried." 

"You were... worried." 

"Yeah." 

"About what, exactly?" 

"About..." Shizuo grimaces and crosses his own arms, heat starting to flush his cheeks. This goes against everything he's ever felt or believed, and he's finding it very hard not to just turn around and leave... but he's already come this far, and he isn't going to chicken out now. "You... I guess." 

Izaya stares at him, not sure he heard that right. "Me." 

"Yeah. You." 

"Forgive me if I seem a little confused, but... what?" 

The blonde sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't... really know how to explain it, okay? I just... I kinda had a bad feeling, and I don't like having bad feelings, so I wanted to make sure nothing was... wrong." 

"You wanted to make sure... nothing was... wrong." Izaya repeats, hearing the words but unable to make sense of them. "I'm not sure I follow." 

"What the fuck do you mean, 'not sure if I follow?' What's there to even follow? I thought something might be wrong, so I came to make sure nothing actually was. Seems pretty straight-forward to me." 

"Well of _course_ it would seem straight-forward to someone as simple-minded as you, but to those of us with actual complex thought --" 

"Do you even know _how_ to shut the fuck up, or is the sound of your own voice the only thing that keeps you from realizing how absolutely fucking alone you actually are?" The moment the words leave his mouth, he's already regretting them; Izaya looks like he's just been slapped in the face, his mouth hanging open and his eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights. "Shit. Look, fle -- Izaya. I--" 

"Get out." 

"Huh? Wait, I didn't --" 

"Get. _Out."_

"I'm not going to just fucking leave --" 

"And why the _hell_ not, Shizuo?" Izaya asks abruptly, not even bothering to hide his anger. He's too tired to play the part of the unruffled info broker... at this point, he just wants the other man as far away from him as possible. "Why the hell _can't_ you 'just fucking leave?' I don't want you here. I don't want you anywhere _near_ here. So get out, go home, and while you're at it why don't you just do me a favor and drop dead?" 

"...what did you just call me?" The look on Shizuo's face is strange, like a mix between concern, curiosity, and frustration. 

"Weren't you even listening? I called you --" 

"Shizuo." 

"That _is_ your name, is it not?" 

"Yeah, and you've never _once_ fucking used it no matter how many times I've tried to beat it into you so I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that I'm right and that something _is_ wrong and you're just too proud to fucking admit it." 

"You're making a lot of baseless assumptions, Shizu-chan." 

"No, no. See..." He closes the space between him and Izaya, taking note of the way the smaller man seems to stiffen the moment he gets a little too close. "I think I get it now. You're scared, aren't you?" 

"Of you?" He forces out a derisive snort. "Don't be ridiculous Shizu-chan, when have I ever been -- " 

"Not of me. Of the unknown." 

_Why? Why does such an absolute idiot always have to be so perceptive at the most inconvenient times? I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!_

"That's prepo--" 

"That's why you lie, isn't it?" Shizuo moves closer still, and this time Izaya can't fight the urge to instinctively take a step back. "And why you've tried so hard to ruin my life. I'm just one big unknown for you, aren't I?" 

"You're doing quite a lot of theorizing, Shizu-chan. You should probably stop before you hurt yourself -- " 

"And that. _That!"_ It's as if all the pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together. "You piss people off on purpose, don't you? You _want_ people to hate you, because if they hate you they won't get close and if they don't get close they can't -- " 

"You are _incredibly_ off-base -- " 

"I don't think I am! _I_ think I'm right, and _you_ just don't want to hear it!" 

"And _I_ think you need to leave before I -- " 

"Before you _what,_ Izaya? What are you gonna do, huh? Remove me by _force?"_ He can tell he's getting a little too worked up, but the damn louse is being too stubborn for his own good and it's really starting to piss him off. "Because I think we both know how well _that_ would go." 

He's right. Izaya hates to admit it, but there's no way he'll be able to get Shizuo to leave if he doesn't want to. That leaves him with only one option. "Fine." 

"Fine?" 

"Fine. Let me just check on my clothes." He gestures to the second floor loft with his head, a bitter smile on his face. 

"Fine. But make it quick." Shizuo plops down on one of the couches and pulls a brand-new pack of American Spirits out of his pocket. Izaya wants to tell him off, because he does _not_ want his apartment to smell like cigarettes -- but right now, it's for the best to just let the monster do what he wants. 

"Of course, Shizu-chan." He casually turns and walks up the stairs, willing his pulse to slow down and his heartrate to stop speeding. "Whatever you say." He mumbles, slipping through the door to the laundry room. He doesn't bother to spare the washer or dryer a single glance, instead choosing to move immediately to the window... the window that also happens to be the way to access the fire escape. 

_Bye bye, Shizu-chan. Try not to break **too** many of my things when you realize I'm gone._

If Shizuo thinks he's going to make this easy for him, he's _dead_ wrong.


	15. When it Rains, it Pours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly gee willickers I sure do love to sin. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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> Read at your own risk. And above all... enjoy. ;) <3

Shizuo hasn't even finished his cigarette when his instincts kick in and tell him something is up. It's been quiet ever since Izaya went to check on his laundry; he still hasn't come back out, and Shizuo's starting to think he isn't planning to. "Oi, flea! You done yet?"

No response. 

"Flea!" 

Still no response. 

"God _damn_ it, Izaya!" He storms up the stairs. "I really don't have the fucking patience for--" his words are cut short when he slams open the laundry room door, the open window and the lack of a flea instantly telling him all he needs to know about just why the lying little shit hasn't come back out yet. 

_I should have fucking known, I should have fucking **expected** this to happen, the goddamn fucking--_

**"GRAH!"**

Furious, he punches the windowed wall, his fist easily breaking through the concrete, glass, and steel. He shoves most of the debris out of the way and slides out to the other side, peering over the metal railing of the fire escape to try and catch Izaya in his sights... but it's too dark, and Izaya is too good at hiding, so of course he doesn't see a goddamn thing. "Damn it, damn it, _damn it!"_ He makes his way down the escape as quickly as he can, his nose easily picking out the familiar stink. "YOU WANNA PLAY HIDE AND SEEK?" He shouts into the night. "THEN WE'LL PLAY HIDE AND SEEK! READY OR NOT, HERE I FUCKING COME!" He takes off running in the scent's general direction, reason having gone out the window... along with Izaya. 

\------------- 

Izaya is on the verge of a full-on mental breakdown. He'd been so concerned with getting away from Shizuo that he hadn't even registered the fact that _maybe_ running around Shinjuku at night in nothing but socks, basketball shorts, and a hoodie was a bad idea... and on top of that, he'd left his phone, knife, _and_ keys back at the apartment, so he not only has no way to defend himself, he also has no way to call for help. "Well, on the bright side, I can't particularly imagine how this situation could get any--" 

**_*drip*_**

"--worse..." He looks up at the dark clouds blocking the light from the stars. 

_Please don't do what I think you're going to do..._

Lightening cracks the sky, followed by the telltale boom of thunder... and then the rain starts to pour. He groans and pulls his hood over his head, the wet ground seeping into his socks as he searches for someplace to wait out the sudden storm. He knows the smart thing to do would be to head back to his apartment, but he has no desire to go home until he knows for a fact that Shizuo won't be there waiting for him. 

_It's cold..._

Unable to find cover, he huddles up against an alley wall and pulls his arms and legs into his sweater. He can't tell if he's shaking from the chill, fatigue, or the adrenaline still running through his veins; has Shizuo figured out he's missing yet? Has he started to look for him already? What is he going to do if he finds him? 

More importantly... what is he going to do if he _doesn't?_

He rests his chin against his knees and lets out a low, shaky breath. 

\------------- 

When the clouds open up and the rain starts to fall, Shizuo knows he has to kick it into gear. If he doesn't find Izaya soon, he's going to lose his scent -- and something tells him that his scent is the _last_ thing he wants to lose. "DAMN IT, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" His yell seems more like a whisper compared to the sound of the raging storm, but that doesn't deter him in the least. "COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE... please?" He adds almost desperately, more to himself than to the man he's looking for. Whether by fate or by chance, a well-timed flash of lightening chooses that moment to illuminate the streets of Shinjuku long enough for him to see a wet, shivering Izaya curled up on the ground. He rushes to his side in an instant, panic starting to set in. "Flea? Flea, please tell me your skinny ass hasn't frozen to death." 

"...rude..." 

The answer is so quiet he almost misses it. "...what did you say?" 

"I said, 'rude.' You should really get your hearing checked." 

Shizuo releases the breath he'd been holding and laughs uneasily. "Fuck, you really are stubborn." 

"So says the pot." 

"Pot? What pot?" He doesn't bother to wait for an answer before scooping Izaya up in his arms and heading back towards the apartment. 

"The pot that called the kettle black." Izaya murmurs, burying his face in the crook of Shizuo's neck. "You're warm." 

"Yeah, well you're fucking freezing. What does that mean, 'the pot that called the kettle black?'" 

"Sleepy." 

"Huh?" 

"I'm sleepy." 

"You can sleep when you're in your own damn apartment, now answer the damn question." 

"..." 

"Oi." 

"..." 

"Izaya?" 

"..." 

"God damn it." 

_This is getting to be more trouble than it's worth._

When he reaches the building, he opts for the fire escape instead of the front door. He really doesn't need to try and explain to the security guard why he's carrying an unconscious tenant, especially right after threatening the poor guy. It takes longer to get up the stairs than it did to get down; by the time he reaches the ruined window, his anger has already mostly subsided. 

Izaya, however, still hasn't woken up. 

He lays him down on the couch and watches the rise and fall of his chest, unsure of what to do. He's heard stories about people dying in their sleep because they got too cold... he doesn't want to be the inspiration for another one. He looks around until he finds a bathroom, relieved (and a bit envious) to find a pair of big fluffy towels draped neatly over the rack. He grabs them both and heads back to Izaya, tossing them aside so he can focus on getting him out of his clothes. Just the thought of stripping him bare is starting to get him excited, and he has to stop and firmly remind himself exactly _why_ he's stripping him in the first place in order to keep himself from doing something stupid. He tugs the sopping sweater up over Izaya's head, immediately forgetting all about the excitement when he notices the red-soaked bandages wrapped tightly around his forearm. He doesn't need a bad feeling to guess that he probably won't like what's underneath. He's not wrong. 

"What the _shit,_ flea?" He gapes, stunned and a little sick to the stomach. "What did you fucking _do?"_ The crudely-carved symbols haven't even scabbed over yet; how long ago had he done this? _Why_ had he done this? 

_I knew it, I fucking **knew** something was wrong..._

"This is my fault." He mutters, stripping off vest, tie, and shirt while he makes his way back to the bathroom. "This is all my fucking fault. I should have just kept chasing him away, it would have been better for both of us." He turns on the sink and splashes his face with warm water, then starts a bath. When he returns to the couch, he's surprised to find Izaya already awake and wiping himself off with one of the towels... sans shorts and socks. The other towel is wrapped around his waist, keeping his lower half hidden from his eyes. Shizuo can't tell if he's more grateful or disappointed. "You're awake." 

"Thank you for the update, Captain Obvious." 

"What is that shit?" 

"Shit? What shit?" 

_"That_ shit!" Shizuo yells, pointing heatedly at Izaya's wrist. 

Alarmed, Izaya jerks his arm behind his back. "None of your _business,_ Shizu-chan." 

"Bullshit, it's none of my business. You did that because of me, didn't you?" 

"Does it matter why I did it?" 

"Yes!" 

"Why?" Izaya spits, anxiety causing his blood pressure to rise. "Don't like competition?" 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"Riddle me this, Shizu-chan; exactly why is it _you're_ allowed to hurt me, but _I'm_ not? Seems a little unfair, don't you think?" 

"That's... different." 

"Oh?" Izaya crosses his legs and languidly leans back against the couch. "Please, Shizu-chan, tell me -- how is it different? I'm dying to know." 

"Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult?" 

"Why do _you_ always have to butt in when you're not wanted?" 

"Not wanted, huh?" 

"Not. Wanted." 

"Dare you to repeat that." Shizuo growls, leaning over Izaya with a dangerous look on his face. His patience is getting thin; he feels like a time bomb ticking away, ready to blow at any second... and the irritating little _brat_ isn't making things any easier. 

"Not." Said brat brings his face closer and stares challengingly into Shizuo's eyes, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. _"Wanted."_

The feral grin he's given in return causes his heart to skip a beat, and he has no time to dodge before he's grabbed by the hair and forced face-down on the carpet, the towel ripped off before it can even fall from his hips. "Is this what you want, then?" The beast snarls into his ear, roughly grinding down against his bare ass. "For me to use you?" 

Shizuo's cold, wet slacks feel like icy sandpaper; they chafe his skin, leaving it red and raw. It's a stark contrast to the heat of his chest pressed tightly against his back, the warm weight keeping him pinned firmly to the floor. He wants more of that warmth; it feels too good to ignore, stirring up another heat deep inside him that has him craving more than just a little skin-to-skin contact. "Hn..." 

"Was that a _moan,_ Iiiiizaaaaaya-kuuuuun?" Shizuo scoots back until he's almost completely off of him, his face hovering over his backside. Keeping him pinned with one hand, he uses the other to spread his cheeks and expose his hole. "Was I right? You want me to use you?" He flicks his tongue out, just barely tasting him. 

Izaya immediately freezes, eyes wide. "What are you _doing?!"_ He gets his answer when something wet and warm starts to wiggle into him. "Hah... that's... ah... highly unsanitary..." Shizuo ignores him, too busy enjoying the "meal" to give a shit about something as superficial as hygiene. He delves his tongue in deeper, growing _agonizingly_ horny when Izaya arches his back, instinctively spreading his thighs apart to give Shizuo better access. He takes full advantage of it, sliding a finger in along with his exploring tongue. _"Fuck,_ Shizu-chan..." 

He takes that as encouragement. He slides in another finger, stretching Izaya open so he can taste even more of him. Precum starts to soak the inside of his boxers; he unzips his pants and shoves them down, eagerly rubbing the head of his erection against the tight ring of muscle he _ached_ to be inside of. "You want me to use _this?"_

"Fuck... hah... you..." 

"With _pleasure."_

Izaya groans as Shizuo starts to push into him, his face burning with shame and arousal. The sensation of the hot, thick cock slowly violating him causes his own cock to throb painfully. "Fuck... hn...fuck! Hah... ah..." 

Shizuo reaches between Izaya's legs and closes his hand around the trembling man's hard-on, thumbing the slit teasingly. "Does it feel good, being used like this?" He whispers, his voice low in the other's ear. "Being _fucked_ like this?" He shoves Izaya's face into the carpet and snaps his hips. 

Izaya whimpers and bucks needily into Shizuo's touch, practically fucking his fist as the other starts thrusting hard and fast inside of him. He chokes out a loud cry when the beast slams into his prostate, ecstacy and pain overloading his senses until he can't tell one from the other anymore. "Fu... fuck, _Shizu-chan--"_

"My name--" he grabs Izaya by the hair and yanks his head back. "--is _Shizuo._ Say it with me -- Shi-zu-o." 

"Shi-zu... chan." 

"Shi-zu- _o."_

"Shi-zu- _chan."_

"I'm gonna give you one more shot, flea. Shi-zu- _o.'"_

"Shi-zu-cha--" He yelps indignantly when a loud **_"SMACK"_** leaves his ass smarting. He turns to shoot Shizuo the nastiest, most murderous glare he can muster. _"Really?"_ He hisses, his face as red as the fresh print the beast was sure to have left on him. 

_"Really."_ He sneers, making it clear to the infuriated brunette that he is _definitely_ enjoying this. "Come on, it's not that hard. Shi-zu-o." 

"Go die in a fire, you mangy untamed-- _FUCK!"_ Izaya cries out when he's spanked a second time, the sharp sting of pain causing him to tear up and reflexively tighten around Shizuo's hard cock as it drives repeatedly into him. 

_"Shit,_ Izaya..." The feeling of the warm, tight walls suddenly squeezing him could almost be considered heavenly. 

There's an even louder smack as Shizuo's palm once more strikes his sore ass... this time accompanied by a brutal thrust to his prostate that has Izaya _convulsing_ with pleasure. **_"SHIZU-CHAN!"_** he screams, cumming all over the other's hand as his body spasms from the overwhelming sensation of ecstacy. 

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck!"_ Shizuo grunts, pounding into him faster and quicker as his own orgasm starts to build. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuuuuuuck..."_ He groans as the friction sends him over the edge, filling Izaya's slick, pulsating hole with his hot, sticky cum. He collapses on top of him without bothering to pull out, panting for air. "Fuck..." He buries his nose in the crook of Izaya's neck, breathing in the musky scent of sweat and sex. "...fuck." 

From underneath him comes a muffled, strained voice. "You can get off of me now." 

"Do I have to?" 

_"Please."_

There's only a _tiny_ hint of desperation in his plea, but it's enough for Shizuo to gingerly remove himself and shift off of him. He kicks off his soaked pants, shoes, and socks before standing up, offering Izaya a hand. He isn't expecting him to accept... he's expecting him to brush him off and say something mean, his ego too big to let anyone assist him. When he instead reaches up and cautiously takes it, Shizuo can't stop himself from feeling a little relieved (and more than a little vindicated). "Want a bath?" He asks, helping Izaya to his feet. "It's already running." 

"A bath would be lovely, actually." Using Shizuo as support, he very carefully makes his way to the tub. "And some water, too." 

"Water. Got it." 

Izaya sinks into the bath with a sigh, the warm water slowly relaxing him. "There's clean cups in the dishwasher. Don't touch any of the glass ones." 

"Whatever." 

"There should be a bathrobe hanging on the inside of my closet. Be a dear and bring me that? My bedroom is up the stairs, down the hall, last door on the right." 

"Fine." 

"Oh, and grab one of those towels from the living room on your way back." 

He's starting to get angry again. He doesn't _want_ to be angry again. _"Fine."_

"What a good boy Shizu-chan is!" 

Izaya blows him a kiss, and it takes every ounce of willpower Shizuo has not to deck him in the face.


	16. Guess I'll Go Eat Worms

_It hurts._

Izaya is sore all over, from his wounded pride to the bright red hand-prints on his burning backside. There's a hollow feeling in his chest, an overwhelming sense of emptiness that has him wishing more than ever that he wasn't so afraid of dying. 

_I want it to stop._

He doesn't know what to do. This is not a situation he's ever thought to prepare for; he can't even come up with a Plan A, let alone a B, C, or D. Shizuo is a rogue variable, impossible to predict and even more impossible to reason with... and as long as he refuses to leave, Izaya's at an impasse. He fully submerges himself in the warm water, air bubbles blowing from his nostrils. The steaming bath feels amazing, but he still can't distract himself from the powerful emotions swimming around in his head: hopelessness, disgust, fear, anger, _lust..._

He doesn't love Shizuo. He _can't_ love Shizuo-- he loves humans, and _only_ humans. To love a monster would go against everything he is. 

_So why can't I say no to him?_

His behavior continues to contradict his beliefs, desire trumping logic even when he'd much rather it be the other way around. It feels like he's tying a noose around his neck... every decision he makes pulls it tighter and tighter, choking him with his own denial and self-doubt. 

"Oi, you done yet?" Shizuo knocks on the open door, forcing him to come up for air. 

"Obviously not. Why?" He's confused to see that other man has put back on his wet clothes and shoes. 

"I'm fucking starving." 

"And I care because?" 

"I was gonna go pick something up. Thought I'd see if you wanted me to get you anything while I was out." 

Izaya folds his arms over the edge of the tub and regards the blonde curiously. Is the beast actually trying to be _considerate?_ It makes no sense, this strange shift in behavior... but it _does_ make him uncomfortable, and discomfort is another emotion he's never played well with. "The 'out' part sounds nice... how about you just not come back?" 

"You're not getting rid of me _that_ easily, flea." 

"Damn it, Shizu-chan! Why can't you just--" 

"--do what you want me to do?" He interjects, stalking towards Izaya with an eerily calm expression on his face. "Worship the ground you walk on? Believe all of your lies? Put up with your bullshit? Let you hurt me? Let you hurt others? Let you hurt _yourself?"_ He grabs Izaya's wrist for emphasis. 

Izaya fights the urge to flinch. "I _want_ you to leave me alone--" 

"--and _I_ say that's not fucking happening! I'm coming back whether you like it or not, and you're just gonna have to suck it the fuck up and deal with it." Shizuo leans over until their noses are almost touching, staring down into his eyes with a paralyzing intensity. "Got it?" 

Izaya scowls, unhappy but in no position to argue. _"Fine."_

"Good." Shizuo straightens up and pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket. "Any place decent within walking distance?" 

"There's an Italian place several blocks south of here that makes a wonderful _Ai frutti di Mare..._ though they might still be closed, I hear they had an incident a few months ago that involved the--" 

"Ai furu-ti-ti what-what?" He interrupts, caring far more about food than whatever rumor the lying little bastard might be trying to spread. 

_"'Ai frutti di Mare.'_ It's a seafood pizza, and not one you often see in places outside of Italy. However, If you're looking for cheap -- and I'm sure you are, considering -- I thiiiiiiiink there might be a Taco Bell around the corner." 

"I'm gonna go with that, then. " Shizuo lights one of his cigarettes and takes a deep drag, blatantly ignoring the dirty look he's given from the apartment's displeased owner. "Last chance to place an order. If you don't tell me what you want, I ain't gonna get you _shit."_

"Well, I don't _want_ 'shit.'" Izaya snaps. "So why don't you be a good boy and just mosey on out of here." 

"FINE! Fucking starve to death, then!" He shouts, his anger finally getting the best of him. He really wants to strangle Izaya, really wants to just wrap his hands around his slender fucking neck and _squeeze_ until his pretty pink lips stop moving. "The whole goddamn fucking world would be a better place without _your_ demented ass still living in it!" He storms out the door before Izaya has a chance to react, desperate to get as far away as he can before he loses his shit and seriously hurts him -- completely unaware that, to Izaya, his bark has _always_ been worse than his bite. 

\------------- 

_I give up._

It takes most of Izaya's strength just to get out of the tub, and the rest to make his way to the kitchen. He doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it... and when he does, he almost wishes he hadn't. 

In his particular line of work, you tend to meet a lot of interesting people. Gang leaders, smugglers, politicians, yakuza, mercenaries; he does business with all sorts, preferring to choose his clients based on how interesting they are instead of on their social or economic standing. Most of his clients are locals, but there have been a few rare cases where he's been hired by people who weren't even from Japan; one of the most memorable of these cases being when he was tasked to find the kidnapped daughter of the head of a Mexican drug cartel. He'd found out she had been taken by human traffickers while sight-seeing in Ikebukuro, her foreign blood making her an easy target; it hadn't been difficult to get her back once he'd found her, and as thanks for her safe return, he'd been given a bottle of authentic Mexican Mezcal. He'd never planned to drink it himself, only stashing it away because he was certain he could find a use for it at some point... 

It's stronger than anything he's used to, and he finds himself fighting just to keep it down. There's even a brief moment where he wonders if it might really be some kind of foul-tasting poison instead of actual Mezcal -- but he keeps drinking it anyway, the low chance that it is far more encouraging than the much higher chance that it isn't. 

_I wonder if I can get Shizu-chan to eat the worm..._

When he returns not even ten minutes later, Shizuo discovers Izaya sprawled upside-down on the couch. It's obvious at first glance that the man isn't at his best; his hair is a mess, his face is flushed, and the tie on his bathrobe is starting to come undone. "What the hell, flea?!" He stares, dropping the Taco Bell bag on the coffee table. 

"And now he's back. How unfortunate." 

"Are you fucking _drunk?"_ Shizuo asks incredulously, alcohol being the only reason he can think of for the brunette's sorry state. 

"Abso-tively posi-lutely~!" Izaya slurs, accidentally giving Shizuo an _excellent_ view of his bare ass as he rolls none-too-gracefully off the couch. "I'll most likely regret it in the morning... but that's a problem for future me, so current me isn't going to bother worrying about it." He tries to stand up but fails miserably, his legs feeling too much like jelly to support his weight. He sticks out his hand expectantly, wordlessly demanding the stronger man's help. 

Shizuo isn't quite sure what's going on, but it's easy enough to see that Izaya is _not_ okay. His stomach churns uncomfortably when he remembers what he'd said to him right before he left... he had been far too frustrated to think about what effect his words might end up having on the already unstable brunette, but from the looks of things they definitely hadn't done any good. He hoists Izaya up by the arm, frowning. "What the hell has gotten into you?" He hadn't even been gone an hour -- hell, he hadn't even been gone _half_ an hour -- how the _fuck_ had he managed to get so obviously wasted in such a short amount of time? And with _what?_

Izaya yanks away the moment he feels steady enough, using the wall to support himself as he makes his way to the freezer. "Other than you? _Mezcal."_

"Mezuka?" Shizuo follows him cautiously, a little curious and more than a little concerned. 

"Close enough." He pulls the chilled bottle from the freezer and holds it out. "Try it." 

"No fucking way." 

"Try it!" 

"I don't wanna!" 

"Try iiiiiiit." 

"Is that a fucking worm?" 

"No, of course not." 

"Why is there a fucking worm in that?" 

"It's not a worm! Technically." 

"Technically?" 

"Just try it." 

"What do you mean, 'technically'?" 

"It's _called_ a worm, but it isn't. Not really, at least. Try it." 

"Then what the fuck is it?" 

"I think some sort of caterpillar? I'm not exactly sure, I just know it's some sort of insect larva. Are you going to try it or not?" He stamps his foot on the ground, tired of all the questions. 

"That's fucking weird..." Shizuo uncorks the bottle and takes a sniff, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "Does it taste as bad as it smells?" 

"Worse, but it hasn't stopped me yet!" 

"I can see that." That answers the what. "But that doesn't tell me how you got it." 

"It was a present." 

"Who the hell gives something like that as a present?" 

"Well, I suppose it was really more like a reward..." 

"For what?" He asks suspiciously. He's always known that Izaya likes to do shady shit -- he just doesn't know what _sort_ of shady shit, and for some reason that bothers him more than usual. "What'd you have to do for something like that, huh?" 

"Dare you to eat it." 

"What?" 

"The worm. Dare you to eat it." 

"What the fuck? Why the hell would I do that? Why would _anyone_ do that?" 

"To prove their courage, perhaps? Some people say it has hallucinogenic or aphrodisiacal effects, but I find that highly unlikely." 

"Japanese, please?" 

Izaya makes a big deal of sighing heavily and rolling his eyes. "Hallucinogenic. It means it can make you see things that aren't there." 

"And the other one is...?" 

"Aphrodisiacal. It means... actually, you know what? On second thought, maybe we should just leave the worm alone." 

Izaya goes to put it back in the freezer, but Shizuo stops him. "Woah woah woah, hold up. You were just daring me to eat it a second ago -- you telling me you changed your fucking mind?" 

"Indeed. I should probably just toss the whole bottle out, to be honest... it'd be for the best, alcohol _is_ a drug after all! And I have far too much self-respect to allow myself to become addicted to-- _HEY!"_ Shizuo has snatched the bottle from his hands and is now peering into it, suddenly very interested in the tiny floating bug. "That's mine!" 

Shizuo dangles it over his head, pleased to have the upper hand. "Yeah? You want it back?" 

"Of course I do, now give it." He doesn't even try to grab it from him. He doesn't see the point. 

"Naw." 

Alarmed, Izaya watches as Shizuo brings the bottle to his lips and starts chugging the vile liquid like it's nothing more than a glass of water. "What are you _doing?!"_

Shizuo quickly drains the entire bottle, then jiggles the "worm" out onto the counter. He carefully picks it up between his fingers and examines it, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you suuuuuure you don't want me to eat this?" 

"Quite sure!" 

"Alrighty then." Without any hesitation, he pops it into his mouth and swallows it whole. 

"What the _fuck?!"_

"It was your idea!" 

"Yes, but I wasn't actually expecting you to do it! You really are a filthy fucking animal, you know that?" 

"Yeeeeep... and you fucking _love_ it." He tosses the bottle into what he assumes is the trash; if it isn't, Izaya doesn't correct him. 

"And a delusional one at that! How did it taste?" He inquires, intrigued despite his revulsion. 

"I couldn't tell, the alcohol burned all my taste buds off. There's no way that shit is legal... seriously, how the fuck did you get it?" He's already feeling woozy -- no wonder Izaya was able to get drunk so fast. 

"I already told you, it was a reward." 

"A reward for _what?"_

Izaya is starting to grow frustrated. "Why do you even care? It has nothing to do with you!" 

"Because I don't fucking trust you! Who knows what kind of fucked up shit you're willing to do?" 

He snorts derisively. "How highly you think of me! Tell me, Shizu-chan... exactly what is it you think I do? Kill puppies? Torture kittens? Set small children on fire? I'm not a sociopath, you know... I do _have_ a conscience!" 

"Oh yeah? You should show it to me sometime... I'd _love_ to see it!" 

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine!" By this point, Izaya is completely fed up with Shizuo's self-righteous attitude. He might not be the most trustworthy person sometimes -- or most times, if he's being honest -- but Shizuo is no saint, and Izaya is by no means the only guilty party. "Because so far all I've seen from _you_ is the _monster_ I know you are!" 

Shizuo grabs him by the throat and shoves him up against the wall, his fingers itching to tighten their hold until they've _snapped_ that delicate neck of his clean in half. It would be so _easy..._ just a liiiiiiiiittle more pressure and all his problems would be over for good... 

Izaya claws uselessly at his hand, growing more and more panicked the longer it refuses to budge. 

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die! He's going to kill me. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared! I don't want to be scared! I don't want to **die!** I hate this, I hate this, **I hate this!**_

Without warning the hand is removed, spurring him to immediately start coughing and gasping for air. When he glances up at Shizuo, he sees the man ogling him with a bizarre expression on his face. "What?" He manages to choke out, fighting the urge to wince when he hears the crack in his voice. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" 

"You... you're..." Shizuo sounds oddly strained as he reaches out, gingerly brushing a finger over Izaya's cheek. When he pulls it away, it's glistening with tears he's not sure the brunette has even noticed he's been shedding. At first he thinks it's some sort of trick to get him to let his guard down; he soon discovers that it's not when Izaya hastily wipes them off with his sleeve, his red face reflecting his obvious embarrassment. Shizuo's mouth opens and closes uselessly, as if he's trying to find the right words to say but can't come up with anything that might make a difference. There's an uncomfortable ache in his heart... it's strangely familiar, like it's something he's experienced before... when it finally clicks, he inhales sharply. He _has_ experienced this before... over a decade ago, when he'd let his temper take over and he'd destroyed an entire bakery. He'd ended up hurting the woman he was trying to save -- she had been the first stranger to ever be kind to him, as well as his closest thing to a first love. His guilt had been too much for him to handle at such a young age; he stopped holding back, using his strength and reputation to keep people from getting close. 

_Shit._

He can't believe this. He can't believe _himself._ How could he be so fucking _blind?_ "SHIT!" 

Izaya jumps when Shizuo's fist flies past his head and bursts through the wall next to him. He turns towards the jagged hole with wide eyes. If Shizuo had aimed just a few inches to the left... he shuts his eyes and leans back against the wall, sliding to the floor in a fit of shaky giggles that quickly dissolves into full-on manic laughter. "POP!" He shouts. He feels dizzy; he can't tell if it's because of the lack of sleep, the lack of food, or the lack of oxygen. 

"God damn it, quit laughing! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Shizuo grabs him by the collar and shakes. "Do you think this is fucking funny?!" 

_Funny?_

He's sleep-deprived, practically starving, completely defenseless, and in the middle of a drunken breakdown... and worst of all, his worst fucking enemy gets to enjoy the show. No, this isn't funny... 

...this is _terrifying._


	17. When We Can't Dream Any Longer

"Damn it, Izaya! I told you to fucking quit it!"

Despite the exasperated blonde's shouted demand, Izaya's laughter shows no signs of stopping. If anything, it's gotten worse; his cackles seem to grow more and more obnoxious with each passing second, grating on Shizuo's nerves until red starts to color his vision. He's closer to snapping then he's been in weeks; his desire to shake the laughing man to death is so strong that he's starting to forget why he came here in the first place, his concern shoved rudely aside to make way for his fiery temper. 

"I can't!" Izaya manages to wheeze, wildly shaking his head -- which he immediately regrets, the room spinning around him like an out-of-control merry-go-round. The dizziness bothers him less than the waterworks, though... he can blame _that_ on the alcohol, but the only thing he can blame his sorry state on is himself. "I _can't!_ I can't. I can't! I can't I can't I can't I can't I _CAN'T!"_ His voice breaks -- and with that, so does he. Years and years and _years_ of pent-up despair starts to spill from his bloodshot eyes, his manic laughter turning into anguished sobs that are so completely out-of-character they actually manage to bring Shizuo back from the edge of frenzy. _"I HATE YOU! I **HATE** YOU!"_ He starts furiously pounding Shizuo's chest with his fists, putting all his strength into his swings even though he _knows_ he will never be able to hurt the monster as badly as the monster has hurt him. _"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY? JUST **DIE!!!"**_

Stunned, Shizuo does nothing to stop Izaya's blows. They glance off of him like he's wearing armor, not doing a thing to hurt him; but they keep coming anyway, growing more and more desperate with each passing moment. He has no idea what it is he's feeling... all he knows is that he wants Izaya to _stop_ , and the only way he can think of to make that happen is to do exactly what he did the _last_ time Izaya started freaking out... hug him. The smaller man squeaks in surprise when he suddenly finds himself being squeezed in a strong embrace, his cheek pressed against a still-very-wet dress shirt. Shizuo has his face buried in his hair, his warm breath tickling his scalp and spreading goosebumps across his flesh; there's something in the way he holds him that feels different from before, feels... _right._ He doesn't like it. _"LET ME GO!"_ He screeches, struggling with all his might; but Shizuo refuses to budge, instead choosing to squeeze him even tighter. Already exhausted, it doesn't take long for him to run out of steam. He goes limp in the other's arms, silent tears still trickling down his face. 

_I give up._

He doesn't see the point in trying anymore. The only things that have ever really mattered to him were his pride, his love for humans, his hatred for Shizuo, and his plan to awaken Celty's head... and he's betrayed them all, letting his loneliness and curiosity get the best of him. 

_So much for satisfaction bringing me back._

Karma has finally caught up to him... and while he may not be dead, his life is definitely over. 

_It's kind of poetic, if you think about it._

There's a sigh of relief, and the arms around him relax slightly. He supposes that's probably a good thing (it means that Shizuo most likely _isn't_ going to kill him) but instead of feeling relieved, he just feels... _numb._ "Izaya?" The way Shizuo says his name is abnormally gentle, his voice barely more than a whisper. It tickles Izaya's neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

"What?" He answers shortly, his own voice raspy and raw. 

There's a pause, then another sigh. "Look... I need to know that if I let you go, you aren't gonna do something stupid like run out into the storm. If I have to chase your ass down one more time, I might _actually_ end up fucking snapping and killing you." 

"There's nothing I'd like more." He mumbles under his breath. 

"Wait, what?" 

"I said, 'then help me off the floor.' It's cold and wet and my ass hurts." 

"Oh. Yeah, that's... probably a good idea." Shizuo admits reluctantly, hesitating for a moment before releasing him and standing up. He offers his hand to Izaya, who takes hold of it and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. 

"Of course it's a good idea. _I_ came up with it." He staggers over to the couch and flops facedown onto the soft plush cushions. 

_Warm..._

"You're gonna suffocate if you lay like that." Shizuo warns, unbuttoning his soaked shirt. 

_So warm..._

"Oi, did you hear me?" He peels it off and tosses it over the back of the couch, then starts unbuckling his belt. 

_So warm and comfortable._

"Izaya." 

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you." He grumbles, begrudgingly rolling over onto his back. "...What do you think you're doing?" 

"Stripping." 

"Why?" 

"Because..." He lets his pants drop to the floor. "...I'm not a fool." 

"Pardon?" 

He leans over him, a sly grin on his face. "I don't wanna catch a cold." 

Izaya stares blankly until the realization hits. "You _stalked_ me!" 

"I didn't fucking _stalk_ you! Besides, _you're_ the one that decided to show your face in Ikebukuro. You should be thankful I didn't kill you the moment I saw you!" 

"Ikebukuro doesn't _belong_ to you, Shizu-chan! You have no right to decide who can come and go!" 

"I have the right cuz I made it my damn right! If you don't like it, tough! It's what you get for being a liar!" 

"It must be nice, being so strong that you can do whatever you want~!" 

"What the hell are you trying to say, huh?! That I'm a fucking _bully?"_

"If the shoe _fits."_ Izaya snarls, pushing himself up so they're face to face. 

"Oh yeah?" Shizuo growls back, his eyes narrowed. 

_"Yeah."_

For a moment, neither of them move; they just glare, silently daring the other to do something to break their unspoken truce -- and then their lips smash together, Shizuo shoving Izaya back down against the couch and ripping his robe open while Izaya painfully twists his fingers into his hair and grinds up against his naked body. Shizuo groans in response and grabs Izaya's ass, his fingers unintentionally pressing into the tender skin. Izaya opens his thighs, wordlessly inviting Shizuo between them... but instead of giving him what he wants, Shizuo just sneers. "If you want it, you gotta ask for it." He murmurs against his parted mouth, a smug look in his eyes. 

_"Fuck_ you." 

"Not good enough. Say please." 

_"Fuck_ you... please." 

"You're such a fucking smartass." 

"Rather be a smartass than a dumbass." 

"Keep it up and you'll be a _numb_ ass." Shizuo warns, squeezing the supple flesh in order to prove his point. "Got it?" 

"Nn... fine." 

"Good. Now try again." 

Izaya sighs heavily. _"Fine."_ He says, before clearing his throat and taking on the most obnoxiously "innocent" tone he can muster. "Please, Monster-san, _please_ put your Monster-chan inside my evil sin-hole~! I am a wicked, wicked man and I deserve to be punished for my wicked, wicked d-- _FUCK!"_ He gasps, pain shooting up his spine as Shizuo starts to press his very hard, very _dry_ cock through the tight ring of muscle. It hurts more than the first, second, and third times combined; more tears start to well up in his eyes, and his grip on Shizuo's hair is strong enough that he can feel strands breaking off between his fingers. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." He moans, his voice strangled. He kisses Shizuo hungrily, savoring the strong taste of alcohol, blood, and tobacco on his tongue. 

"Fuck..." Shizuo breathes, enthusiastically kissing him back as he continues to slowly sink deeper and deeper into him. Izaya is agonizingly tight... _so_ tight, in fact, that it's almost too much for him. _Almost._

With one last, forceful push, Shizuo buries himself to the hilt. Panting for air, he rests his forehead against Izaya's. He wants to move. He wants to pound into him over and over again, wants to make him scream, wants to make him _come..._ but even in his drunken state, he knows he can't. Not yet, at least. Not until he's absolutely sure it's okay. "I... za..." He tries to speak, but the sensations are too much. He gives up, choosing instead to (as gently as possible) remove Izaya's hands from his hair and entwine their fingers together. He then presses his lips against Izaya's throat, taking note of the way the smaller man shudders. 

At this point, all Izaya cares about is Shizuo's hot breath tickling his neck, his cock stretching his aching ass, and his hands clasping his tightly. He wraps his legs around Shizuo's waist, gritting his teeth when the shift in position causes the beast to push against his prostate. "Hah... _nnn...."_

"Holy shit..." Shizuo gasps, suddenly finding it much easier to move. Izaya has become slick... for a moment he thinks it's lube, until he remembers he hasn't used any. "Holy _fuck,_ you're wet!" 

Izaya wants to tell him that he can't _possibly_ be wet -- he's a man, after all -- but Shizuo has already started to move inside him and he quickly forgets that he wanted to say anything at all. "Uh... uhn... nnnnn..." 

"Does... does it really feel that good, being fucked like this?" Shizuo asks breathlessly, watching as Izaya's pretty face contorts. He starts slow at first, almost careful... but Izaya's moans are like music to his ears, and with every thrust he becomes more and more impassioned until he's losing control he never had in the first place. He knows he's not going to last much longer. It's impossible. 

Izaya answers him by capturing his lips in another, even needier kiss, digging his nails into the back of Shizuo's hands like his life depends on it. Shizuo rubs his thumbs over his as if trying to reassure him and moves his lips to his ear, blowing against it lightly before sucking and tugging on the lobe with his teeth. Izaya clenches around him, the pressure all it takes for Shizuo to reach his apex; he rides it like a wave, letting the satisfaction wash over him as he aims not one, not two, but _three_ slow, powerful thrusts at the spot deep down inside of Izaya that he's recently come to appreciate as one of the few things he knows for a _fact_ can make the infuriating little parasite scream. 

_**"FUCK!"**_ Izaya chokes, his toes curling against the small of Shizuo's back as he ejaculates all over his chest and stomach -- he shivers at the feel of Shizuo cumming inside of him, filling him with warm, sticky proof of just how absolutely depraved the both of them are. 

_Truly, we were made for each other._

Shizuo tears off a piece of Izaya's bathrobe and goes to wipe himself off, freezing when he pulls out and sees red mixed in with the white. 

_Oh._

Izaya hadn't gotten wet at all. 

"Shit..." He groans, pressing his palms against his forehead. "Fuck. Shit." 

"What?" Izaya stares up at him, bleary-eyed. "What's... what is it?" 

"Blood." 

"Oh... 'sat all?" 

"Sat what?" 

"That." 

"That? That... all. Is that all. Is that all? _Really?_ Is bleeding from the fucking ass not enough for you, do you need to be bleeding from your dick, too?" 

"Why are you so angry? You're the one that caused it." Izaya yawns, stretching out on the couch. "Besides... it's better than a... than a hemorrhoid..." 

"Than a what?" 

There's no answer. 

"What's a hemorrhoid? Izaya? Oi, Izaya." He shakes him, but there's still no response. "Is it bad? Izaya!" A soft, almost inaudible snore tells him that he's probably not going to be getting an answer any time soon. "Great. Fucking great. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" There's no way he's going to leave Izaya alone, but if someone was to walk in right now and see them he'd have a pretty fucking hard time trying to convince them that any of this had been consensual -- _especially_ if that someone knew how they felt about each other. "Shit. Damn it!" He kicks the coffee table; it slams against the wall, along with his Taco Bell. 

_I need help._

He retrieves his phone from the pocket of his jeans and flips it open, searching through his contacts until he finds Celty's number. She can't exactly have a conversation with him, but he's shaking too hard to text -- the best he can do is leave a voicemail and hope she gets back to him. 

"Oi. Sorry to do this so late, but, uh... I've, uh... I've really fucked up. Really, really, really fucked up. And I don't know what to do, and it's bad, and... well..." He glances over at the passed out flea. "I could really use that rant right about now."


	18. Thin Ice

**_VRRRRRRRRRRRRBBB!!!_ **

The vibration of Celty's phone on the nightstand is loud enough to rouse her and Shinra both, the latter blindly fumbling around for his glasses until a shadowy tendril waves them in his face. The phone stops before Celty can actually grab it, almost immediately going to voicemail. When she reads the name on the caller ID, she presents the phone to her lover -- the screen is practically blinding in the darkness, and Shinra has to squint in order to make out the text. "Shizuo...kun?" He blinks sleepily and rubs his eyes, his brow furrowing as his brain slowly struggles to kick into gear. "It's the middle of the night... what is he doing calling so late?" 

[I don't know, but I'd like to find out! What if something bad happened?!] 

"Well..." he yawns, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. "It looks like he left a message. Shall we give it a listen?" 

Celty signs "yes" with her fist and presses the number to her voice mailbox, putting it on speakerphone so the two of them can hear it clearly. When Shizuo's message begins, it's obvious from his strained tone that whatever he's calling about isn't going to be sunshine and rainbows. 

_'Oi. Sorry to do this so late, but, uh... I've, uh... I've really fucked up. Really, really, really fucked up. And I don't know what to do, and it's bad, and... well... I could really use that rant right about now.'_ There's a 'click,' and the message ends. Shinra takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, massaging his temples -- it's a stark contrast to Celty's hurried shift from her nightclothes into her shadow-leather motor suit, her worried thoughts racing faster than her steed has ever driven. What could _possibly_ have happened? Had Shizuo finally snapped, permanently and severely damaging someone who most likely had no idea who they were harassing? Or had he finally snapped and _killed_ someone, his surprisingly soft heart breaking in the process? There are too many possibilities for her to stay grounded, pitch-black smoke leaving her throat in little panicked puffs. 

_'Are you okay? Where are you?!'_ She texts.

Shizuo's response is swift, but does nothing to ease her mind. _'no. at izayas'_

_'Izaya's?!'_

_'yeah'_

_'What are you doing at Izaya's?!'_

_'2 much 2 txt'_

_'Then I'll be there ASAP! Don't go anywhere!'_

_'i wont'_

Shinra watches as Celty's fingers move frantically across the keyboard, concern causing his brow to furrow. Whatever Shizuo's response was, it's done nothing to ease her mind. "What did Shizuo-kun say?" 

[He said he's at IZAYA'S!!!] 

"Wait, what?" 

She brings Shizuo's message back up and shoves it into his face, her hand shaking enough that Shinra has to grasp it in his own to keep the phone still enough to read. The text reaffirms her statement and causes an unpleasant, uncomfortable feeling to start churning away in his stomach; if Shizuo is at Izaya's, then his "fuck up" must have something to do with Izaya himself -- and that can mean _nothing_ good. "Hey, Celty... would you mind horribly if I tagged along? Something tells me I might be needed." 

\------------- 

_**One hour later...**_

"So, let me get this straight..." Shinra is sitting on the couch, his fingertips once more massaging his temples. Celty is sitting next to him, phone in hand... but she hasn't once used it, her body preternaturally still as her mind struggles to wrap itself around what she's just been told. "I told you to _talk_ to Orihara-kun -- which I was under the impression you actually _did,_ considering that's what you'd told Celty -- and _instead,_ you decided to... you decided to... you _fucked_ him, Shizuo. You _fucked_ Izaya Orihara. _Izaya!"_

Shizuo winces. He'd _thought_ Shinra had been upset when they'd destroyed his apartment, but... this? This is different. This is _worse._ "I--" 

"NO." Shinra cuts him off sharply, effectively shutting him up long enough for the furious doctor to find his words. "I told you... I _told_ you... Izaya is _not_ strong! He _acts_ like he has it all figured out, _acts_ like nothing can touch him, but he is probably the _most_ emotionally disturbed person I-- " 

"I know!" 

"No, _I_ don't think you do! Orihara-kun-- " 

"I _said,_ 'I know!'" 

"And _I_ said I don't think you do! Orihara-kun is-- " 

"I _said_ I _know!_ I fucking know! I fucking _know_ he's fucked up, I _know_ he needs help, and I fucking _know_ a lot of this shit is probably _my_ fucking fault so could you _please_ spare me the fucking lecture and just fucking _help_ me?!" 

Shinra freezes in place, so taken aback by Shizuo's very impassioned, very _verbal_ outburst that he's legitimately forgotten what he was going to say. He takes a minute to gather his thoughts, then inhales deeply... pretending he _doesn't_ smell the alcohol on his friend's breath. "Okay. Alright. Does he need medical attention?" 

"Um..." 

"Shizuo-kun... does he or does he _not_ need medical attention?" 

"He... " Shizuo sighs and slumps backwards in his seat. "...probably does, yeah." 

"And by 'probably,' you mean 'definitely.' Am I right?" 

"..." 

_"Shizuo-kun._ Am. I. _Right?"_

"...Yeah. Yeah, you're right." 

"I expected as much." Shinra stands up and retrieves his emergency medical kit from where he'd deposited it on the floor. "Shizuo-kun?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I don't care if it's a tragic and unavoidable accident or yet _another_ one of your ridiculously destructive temper tantrums -- if I come back and find that Celty -- my darling, my flower, the love of my life, my goddess, the reason I wake up every morning--" 

As if by reflex, Celty reaches over and smacks him in the back of the head. She quickly taps out the first words she's said since they got here, embarassment snapping her out of her daze. [Would you cut it out?! This is serious!!!] 

"Anything for you, Celty~!" Shinra cheerfully replies, before turning his attention back to the drunk blonde and taking on a much more somber tone. "Which is why, if Celty gets hurt because of you, I will _never_ help you again. Do you understand me?" 

Shizuo swallows, his throat suddenly dry; he wonders if this was how Izaya felt when he'd stared him down earlier, his urge to argue crushed under the weight of the rather heavy ultimatum. "Yes, sir." 

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go make sure Orihara-kun isn't _dead."_

"He was still asleep when I checked on him earlier... he looked fine, he was breathing and everything..." 

"Exactly how long ago was that?" 

"I dunno... maybe ten, fifteen minutes?" 

"And are you absolutely sure he was asleep?" 

"Yeah... why?" 

"Because ten minutes is _more_ than enough time for someone as smart as Orihara-kun to form an escape plan." 

"There's no way he'd get away without me noticing. I checked -- the only way out of that room is the door. Besides, I already told you... he was asleep." 

"No, you _believe_ he was asleep. And if there's _one_ thing Orihara-kun is good at, it's getting people to believe things that aren't true." 

"What, you're saying he might have been faking it?" 

[That does kind of seem like something he'd do...] 

"Yeah, but why? He knows I'm not gonna let him go anywhere, and trying'd just tire him out more. What could he possibly fucking do that I won't know about?" 

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Shinra responds flatly. Something in his friend's voice gives Shizuo the chills; as he watches him disappear up the stairs, he can't help but hope he never finds out why.


	19. Monsters, Inc.

It's only been a few minutes since Shinra disappeared into Izaya's room, but the awkward silence between the two "monsters" makes the time seem to slow to a crawl. Shizuo seems to be waiting for Celty to tell him what she thinks about the situation, but this was the _last_ thing she expected, so she has absolutely no idea what to say. Now that the initial shock has worn off, her mind is racing; she's going over every fight she's ever witnessed, every rant Shizuo's ever gone on, and every story Shinra's ever told her -- she'd refused to see it before, but now that she's heard it directly from her friend's lips, she can't deny it... no matter how much she wants to.

_I guess anything really **is** possible in Ikebukuro..._

"Um..." Shizuo clears his throat. His eyes are downcast, his shoulders hunched; it's obvious that he's ashamed of the mess he's made, and it kind of reminds her of a puppy that got caught peeing on the carpet. She can't help but feel sympathetic. "Do you... do you think that, um... that I'm..." He seems to be straining to find the words. 

[That you're...?] 

"...a freak." 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's talking about. [Of course not!] 

"Not even now that I'm... you know..." 

[You're one of my closest friends, Shizuo. I'm not going to abandon you, especially not when you need my help!] 

"Really?" 

[Really!] 

"...really really?" 

[Really really!] 

He relaxes, a smile tugging at his lips. "Really really really?" 

[Really really really!!!] 

"Thanks, Celty. That means a lot." 

[No problem. ^_^ ] She replies, offering him a reassuring thumbs up. [Now tell me how I can help.] 

"You mentioned you were a good listener?" 

She nods. 

"Well... I kinda have a lot to talk about..." 

[I figured you probably would... it's a lot to go through.] 

"Yeah. I don't even know where to start." 

"How about you start by telling me how long Orihara-kun's had those cuts on his wrist?" Shinra asks, closing the door behind him before descending down the concrete steps. He looks and sounds even more tired than when they'd arrived. 

"I don't really know for sure... at least a couple hours, but definitely not more than a day. I think he might've done it earlier this evening." 

[Wait, done what? What cuts?] 

"Self-inflicted ones, from the looks of it." Shinra collapses on the couch next to Celty and leans his head against her shoulder. "I think it's supposed to be runic." 

"What the hell is runic?" 

[The Nordic alphabet.] 

"Nordic?" He looks confused. 

[As in vikings.] 

"Wait, vikings? The flea carved fucking _viking_ letters into his arm?" It makes no sense to him. 

"Orihara-kun's always had a thing for Norse mythology. I never really understood why." 

"Weird. What does it mean, then?" 

"I don't know, but I bet I can find out." Shinra responds, pulling Google up on his phone. Izaya never does anything without a reason, no matter how twisted that reason might be -- if he can figure out what the runes mean, he might be able to gain some insight. "Luckily for us, the runic alphabet isn't exactly difficult to find." He taps on the first link he sees, waiting for the page to load before scanning the symbols one by one. "Let's see here... A... R... G... and I _think_ that the last one is also an R, so... 'argr'?" 

"Argr?" 

[Does it say what it means?] 

"No, but a definition shouldn't be too difficult to find." 

[Maybe there's a wiki page?] 

"A whole wiki page for a single, esoteric Norse word I pieced together using a chart I found on the internet? That seems unlikely." He looks it up anyway, though... surprised to find the word did, indeed, have a wiki page. "Well... that's convenient." Shinra waits for it to load; when it does, his eyes immediately start scanning the page for key words, bolded phrases, and anything else that jumps out at him. 

_Old Norse terms of insult -- denoting effiminacy or other unmanly behavior -- has the right to kill in retaliation -- dishonorable to Bjorn, not to his rapists -- receptive, passive role of a freeborn man during--_

_"Oh."_ He sucks in a breath. 

"What is it? What's wrong?" Shizuo asks, not liking the look on his friend's face. 

"I think it would be better for both of us if you read it yourself." Shinra states flatly, handing him the phone. 

He takes it, confused. "Aren't you afraid I'll break it?" 

"I'd prefer having my phone broken over having to explain... _that."_ He goes back to leaning against Celty, who tenderly runs her fingers through his hair. She can tell he's disturbed by something -- she just doesn't know what, and that concerns her. 

[Is it really that bad?] 

"Well..." He rubs his temples. "Let's just say that it puts a lot of things into perspective." 

_I guess I'm going to have to read it myself..._

_**CRACK.**_

She doesn't have to look to know that was the sound of Shinra's phone breaking. 

\------------- 

_He stands in a labyrinth made of trees, naked except for the hooded, floor-length cloak draped over his shoulders. The cloak is made of a dark red velvet and is held shut by a gold clasp that gleams in the milky moonlight, set with glittering diamonds that shine bright enough to light the path ahead of him. He starts to walk, the dirt ground rough on his bare feet -- and he walks for what seems like forever, until his heels are raw and his footsteps are tracking bloody trails behind him. Eventually, he reaches a point where he can go only left or right... his intuition tells him that left is safer, but the right pulls at him like a magnet, his curiosity overpowering his common sense._

_The trees are denser in this direction; even the diamonds are too dull to cut through the blackness, and his cloak does nothing to shield him from the biting chill that seeps through his skin and into his bones. He shivers and pulls the cloak tighter around him, more for a sense of comfort than warmth... the night has grown eerily silent, the only sounds audible to him being the sound of his pounding heart, his hushed breaths, and the soft echo of his footsteps as he journeys deeper into the unknown._

_Without any prior warning, a low rumbling sound shakes the ground beneath him and knocks him off-balance, causing him to blindly reach out for something, **anything,** to grasp on to -- but he doesn't find a thing. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts to fall forward, bracing himself for an impact that never comes... he just continues to fall, and fall, and fall, and fall, until it starts to feel like he's drowning in a sea of endless void. He's almost wishing for the bottom to rise up to meet him, death starting to seem like a blessing compared to the agonizing abyss of isolation and fear he's currently stranded in. He wants to cry, but no tears will fall, wants to scream, but no sound will come out, wants anything other than this suffocating loneliness... _

_The hem of his cloak catches on something, jerking him to a stop so sudden it causes his heart to jump into his throat. He dangles there, holding on for dear life, suddenly terrified of what might be at the bottom of this pit of despair. As if on cue, a deep, gutteral growl resonates from below. Without thinking, he makes the mistake of looking down._

_**No... no no no, please no...** _

_The moment he sees the golden glowing eyes, his cloak starts to rip, bringing him closer and closer to his doom until he can feel its hot breath tickling his bare flesh, the sensation sending shudders up his spine and making it difficult for him to concentrate on his slipping grip._

_**Nonononononono...** _

_There's a 'SNAP!', and then he's falling again. The beast licks its drooling chops and opens its mouth up wide, hungry and impatient to devour its prey..._

Izaya's eyes fly open and he gasps desperately for air, his sweat-soaked skin sticking to the bare mattress as he sits up and wipes his forehead off with the back of his hand. 

_I feel like shit..._

Almost zombie-like, he makes his way to the master bathroom and turns on the shower, settling cross-legged on the tiled floor before turning the temperature up all the way to 'HOT'. It burns like hell, but it allows him to find his center... with a few deep breaths, he's able to muster enough willpower to drag himself out of the shower, dry himself off, and even get dressed -- despite the fact that the only clothes he has that are both clean and available are a pair of pajama pants he grew out of years ago and a burgundy hoodie he wore once and forgot about. After that, he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. When he's finally stopped hating the sight of himself, he heads downstairs -- only to be greeted by a passed-out Shinra curled up next to the _headless fucking rider_ on _his_ living room couch, with a loudly snoring Shizuo sprawled out on the adjacent loveseat. 

_Of course. Just when I thought it couldn't get any **fucking** worse..._

He's not sure what to do. He wants to run, but he also knows that he's not in the condition for trying to deal with such unsavory weather. He wants to hide, but he also knows that the beast will sniff him out eventually... so really, what's the use? He can't escape him. The monster will always be around to ruin his life, no matter where he goes or what he does. 

_I hate him. I really fucking hate him..._

A hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts, and he's both relieved _and_ disappointed to discover that it's Celty and not Shizuo. "What do you want?" He hastily shrugs her hand off and takes a few steps back, inwardly cringing when he hears how cracked and raspy his voice is. "Why are you here?" 

[Shizuo called me. He said he needed help.] 

"Is that so?" The smile on his face is more sour than sweet. "And why should I care? What Shizuo needs has nothing to do with me." 

[That's where you're wrong.] 

"Oh?" 

[He's worried about you.] 

He snorts. "Good one." 

[I'm serious.] 

"I'm sure you are." 

[I mean it!] 

"I'm sure you do." He says dryly, moving past her so he can carefully maneuver his way over to the kitchen without appearing to be in _too_ much pain. Unfortunately for his pride, he can't hide the obvious limp; he knows it hasn't gone unnoticed, but (thankfully) the headless rider has the decency to pretend otherwise. 

[Shinra's worried about you, too. He thinks you're going to do something drastic.] 

"Does he now?" He grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills it up with lukewarm water from the tap, taking a big swallow before continuing. "And what do _you_ think, Courier-san?" 

_What **do** I think?_

It doesn't take long for her to come up with an answer; Izaya's skin is almost as pale as _hers_ is, and that alone is enough to set off alarm bells. His deathly pallor makes the dark circles under his puffy red eyes even more noticeable, along with the nasty hand-shaped bruise on his neck that reminds her of just how dangerous it is to let Shizuo Heiwajima get within arm's distance -- but what really concerns her is the bitter hopelessness in his voice. She's never heard him sound so defeated... it's almost surreal. [I think you need even more help than Shizuo does...] 

Izaya is in the middle of another swallow when Celty's reply causes him to break out into obnoxious giggle-snorts. "Here, here!" He chokes, raising his glass in a mock toast before chugging the whole thing and wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. 

Something clicks in her mind. [You're drunk.] 

"That is a distinct possibility." 

[You should go back to sleep.] 

"I'd really rather not." He says, turning to refill his glass. "I'd much rather be awake right now." 

There's something in what he says that suggests to Celty that there's more to that statement than the standard paranoia of a man who's made a lot of enemies. [Why?] 

He pretends like he doesn't see her PDA screen, instead choosing to intently study his water glass. "Have you ever heard of the Portland Vase?" 

[No.] 

"It's one of the most valuable glass art objects in the world -- allegedly, they found it in the tomb of a Roman emperor named Severus Alexander. They say it must have taken the artist at least two years to make... isn't that fascinating? A whole two years, just to make a vase! How dedicated they must have been!" 

[You're avoiding the question.] 

"To be fair, everything humans do fascinates me. They're like walking contradictions... they say one thing and mean another, betraying their own convictions while judging everyone else for doing the same. Isn't that pathetic?" 

[Why don't you want to sleep? Are you afraid something's going to happen?] 

"They're such hypocrites, human beings are... they'll always find ways to lay the blame elsewhere. They project their insecurities on to anyone that threatens their reality, finding any reason to persecute regardless of the validity. The irony is that they're completely blind to it -- they can always find a way to justify their actions, even when deep down they know that they're really just lying to themselves." 

_What point is he trying to make?_

She's starting to regret humoring him. Part of her had wanted to ignore him on principle; she wouldn't go so far as to say that she hates him (yet), but he's definitely done enough to make her really, really, really not like having to deal with him. Still, something keeps her from giving in to the impulse -- something she can't quite put a finger on, but somehow knows is important. 

"I've never really understood it. 'How are they so oblivious?' I'd ask myself. 'Why can't they see what I see? What makes me so different?' At first it was just simple curiosity, but the more I learned, the less I understood, and the less I understood, the more I wanted to. No, needed to. I _needed_ to understand. It was imperative." His words are slower now; there's a hesitancy in them, like he's struggling just to get them out. 

_Why is he telling me all this?_

He doesn't say anything else, and for some reason the shift to silence makes her even more uncomfortable. He still hasn't stopped staring at the glass... it suddenly occurs to her that what's an awkward situation for her might very well be a traumatic one for him. 

_No wonder Shizuo was willing to give him a second chance... he won't survive long without one._

[Please go back to bed.] 

"Hmmm, lemme think... no!" 

[Why not?] 

"Because I don't want to~!" 

[Why? You need to sleep!] 

"Why do you care?" 

[I told you already, Shinra's worried about you!] 

He claps his hands together. "Ohhhhhh, so you're doing it for him! In that case, you really shouldn't waste your time... Shinra might say he's my friend, but I know it's really just to humor me. Just like you're doing! You really are perfect for each other. Forcing yourself to listen is kind of you though, you could have just tuned me out. I wouldn't have minded, it's what everyone else does." 

[It's not like that...] 

"It would have been so easy to ignore me though, wouldn't it have? And you wanted to, I know you did. You wanted to -- and you could have, no one would have thought any less of you -- but you didn't. Why? Why bother putting up with me?" He asks the question with a tone of detached curiosity in his voice, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes that Celty has seen enough times to recognize almost instantly. 

_Suspicion._

[I don't know. Call it intuition.] 

"Intuition, huh? That's a little hard to take at face value, don't you think?" He says, smiling so innocently that there's no way he hadn't worded it that way on purpose. 

[Haha. Very funny.] 

"Aren't I?" 

"...'zaya?" A sleepy Shizuo pokes his head into the kitchen. "Oh, hey Celty. Flea, what are you doing up?" 

"Whatever I want, because I'm an _adult_ and this is _my_ apartment. Why is she here?" He points at Celty, hoping to divert the attention away from him. 

"Because I fucking want her here, now answer the fucking question." 

"I already fucking did, _Shizu-chan._ I'm a fucking _adult,_ and this is _my_ fucking apartment." 

Preferring not to be the cause of another fight between the two, Celty decides she should probably do something. [He doesn't want to go back to bed. He won't tell me why, but I think he's afraid of something.] 

"Oi, what are you afraid of, huh?" 

_And the monster takes the monster's side. Of course._

"Who said I'm afraid of anything? Maybe I just don't like people prying into my private life." 

"That's real fucking rich, coming from you." Shizuo snorts. "So... how 'bout this, IIIIIIIzaaaayaaaa-kuuuuuun?" He saunters over to the other man with a grin on his face, stopping only when he's close enough to lean down and press their foreheads together. "You can tell me what it is, or I can drag you to bed myself. Got it?" 

Izaya has to commend himself on how well he's managing to stand his ground, because his heart is beating a million miles a minute and Shizuo's warm breath is starting to remind him a little too much of his dream. "How do I know you won't just drag me there even if I do tell you?" 

"Guess you don't, do you?" 

"Guess not." Feeling the need to be stubborn, he glares silently up at the taller man. 

"So that's your answer, then?" 

"..." 

Celty watches as Shizuo effortlessly scoops Izaya up into his arms. Izaya doesn't even try to stop him... he must not see a point in wasting the energy. [Shizuo.] 

"What?" 

[Please give him a break.] 

"I plan on it." He waves goodnight and carries Izaya back up to his room, accidentally slamming the door when he shuts it behind him. 

"Brute." 

Shizuo responds by dropping him on the bed, feeling a bit like an asshole when he sees him wince. Stripping down to his boxers, he lays down next to him and yanks the blanket up over them both; he then slings an arm over Izaya's waist and pulls him close, growling into his ear a cranky "now go the fuck to sleep." 

"I don't wanna..." Is Izaya's grumbled reply, but Shizuo is so warm and his bed is so soft that even the threat of another nightmare isn't enough to stop him from drifting off into dreamland.


	20. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey guuuuys... buddies... pals... friends... I've got another chapter for ya... 
> 
> Merry Christmas. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

It's already mid-afternoon by the time Shizuo wakes up, and the only reason he doesn't feel guilty about sleeping in so late is because the flea is still passed out next to him. It's strange to think that less than a week ago the idea of the prideful, arrogant bastard letting himself be vulnerable in his presence seemed impossible... so impossible, in fact, that he remembers mentioning to Tom-senpai once that if it ever happened he'd be forced to admit that the evil little demon might actually be human after all. Looking at him now, he's reminded more of an angel than a demon; the golden rays of the post-storm sun bathe the sleeping man's face in a soft, warm glow, his pink lips parted ever-so-slightly as he breathes deeply, calmly, and evenly. Shizuo has _never_ had such an overwhelming urge to kiss someone before... he doesn't even notice himself leaning forward until his own lips are hovering only centimeters above Izaya's, their noses all but touching. Izaya shifts, releasing a tiny, pleased-sounding sigh that tickles Shizuo's mouth and sends all of his blood straight to his groin. He swallows hard, his heart pounding in his chest; it would be so easy to close the gap between them, so easy to just press their mouths together and once more taste the sweetness of Izaya on his tongue... 

He lets out a groan when Izaya shifts again, the movement causing their lower halves to rub together. As if by reflex, he grinds down against him, almost losing it when the friction draws an unconscious moan from the man beneath him. 

_Damn it._

"Iiiiiiiizaaaaaayaaaa-kuuuun..." He whispers into the other's ear, sliding his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers so he can start to play with himself. "Wakey wakey..." 

The brunette furrows his brow and makes a barely audible noise of protest, but when his eyes flutter open to see Shizuo staring hungrily down at him, the dawning realization and subsequent adrenaline rush have him wide awake in seconds. _"Shizu-chan."_ He breathes, his cheeks flushing and goosebumps spreading over his skin. 

"Mornin', IIIIIzaaaya-kuuuuun." Shizuo drawls, chuckling when he sees how just the sound of his _voice_ could make the other man shiver. "Sleep well?" 

"Fuck you." 

"That an offer?" He nibbles on Izaya's earlobe, his free hand snaking up underneath his hoodie to pinch one of his nipples. "Cuz if so, I will _gladly_ take you up on it..." 

Izaya wants to say no, but he can't seem to form the words. "Nn... nnn..." 

"Nnn?" Shizuo echoes teasingly, rolling the tender, sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. _"Nnnnnnn?"_ He lets his mouth wander over to Izaya's throat, latching onto it and suckling as the hand he'd been touching himself with slips down the front of Izaya's pajama pants. 

_"Nnnn..."_ Izaya bucks his hips, squeezing his eyes shut as Shizuo starts to stroke him. _"Fuck..."_

Shizuo's mind is hazy with lust, every expression that passes over Izaya's face succeeding in further fanning the flames of desire that were already burning inside of him. His lips separate from the other's neck with a loud 'POP' -- and before Izaya can ask why he's stopped, his pants have been yanked down and he's being engulfed in a wet heat so intense he can barely remember how to breathe, let alone speak. "Oh, fuck! _Fuck!"_ His nails dig into Shizuo's scalp, the sharp sting of pain earning a low growl that sends shudders of pleasure up his cock and throughout his entire body. _"FUCK!"_ He gasps, his toes curling against the mattress. _"Hn..."_

Encouraged by Izaya's response, Shizuo lets out a deep, reverberating hum that has Izaya convulsing. There's a strange taste at the back of his throat, a mix between salty and sweet that he realizes must be cum. He swallows all of it easily, smirking when he looks up and sees the dazed (yet slightly disgusted) look on Izaya's face. 

"You... you swallowed it!" 

He grins wolfishly, making a show of suggestively licking his lips. "Yum." 

Izaya's face grows even redder. "Have I told you lately that I _hate_ you?" 

"Can't remember. Say it again to make sure." 

"I hate you." 

"What was that?" He pretends like he didn't hear him, moving his mouth to his inner thigh so he can suck on the sensitive skin there. Izaya groans and spreads his legs wider -- Shizuo takes it as an unspoken invitation, one he couldn't pass up even if he wanted to. 

"I... _fuck..."_ Izaya's back arches, his fingers digging even harder into the blonde's scalp when he feels his tongue start to wiggle inside of him. "I _hate_ you..." 

Shizuo responds by greedily plunging his tongue in deeper, so worked up that he can already feel the precum starting to ooze out of him. He moves up to press their lips together in a fierce, messy kiss, taking his cock out of his boxers and rubbing the head teasingly against Izaya's twitching hole. Unable to wait even a second longer to once more bury himself deep inside of that tight, perfect ass, he pushes in until every last inch of him has been swallowed by Izaya's moist heat. _"Shit..."_

Izaya closes his eyes and bites his lip when he feels Shizuo start to move, the other pulling out at a snail-like pace before pushing back in just as slowly. Izaya expects him to start speeding up, even braces for it... but Shizuo's thrusts continue to stay lazy and unhurried, building him up and up and up while doing nothing to ease the pressure growing inside of him. "D... damn it, Shizu-chan... can't you... hurry it up a little?" 

Shizuo smirks, slowing down even more as he leans in to murmur softly against his mouth. "Patience, flea..." He brushes their lips together, drawing his head back before the other can deepen the kiss. "Nuh-uh-uh..." He presses a finger to the smaller man's lips, applying juuuuust enough force to keep his head pinned to the mattress as he uses his free hand to strip him of his hoodie and toss it aside. "I said patience, didn't I?" He moves his attention to Izaya's now-bare chest, leaning down to let his tongue flick out and tickle the same, already-sensitive bud he'd stimulated earlier. He hears Izaya's breath hitch in his throat, his walls tightly squeezing him -- groaning, Shizuo sheathes himself as deeply inside of him as he possibly can before (slowly, to Izaya's frustration) starting to gyrate his hips. 

"Fu... uck... hah... _nnn..."_ It feels agonizingly good, but it's not enough... and he _knows_ it, Izaya _knows_ he knows it, because Shizuo's a fucking sadist and this _definitely_ qualifies as torture. _"Shizu-chan..."_ His voice comes out needier than intended, more of a whine than anything else... he hates how Shizuo can reduce him to this, hates how he can take away his dignity, his control, and his power and still have him begging for more. 

"Yes, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo switches the direction of his gyrations, flicking his tongue out against Izaya's nipple one more time before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it like it's candy. He loves the way Izaya squirms underneath him, loves the way his toes curl and his fingers twist into his bedsheets as he moans from the pleasure only his so-called _monster_ can give him. 

"Sh... pl..." He's too overwhelmed to form entire words, so he tries to help get his point across by tugging forcefully on Shizuo's hair and spreading his legs as wide as he can. "Pl... _please..."_

_"Fuck."_ Shizuo breaks at that, finally giving in and letting Izaya yank him close for another messy, passionate kiss as he works his way up from slow, gentle gyrations to fast, powerful thrusts. He doesn't last very long, but he doesn't need to... the sudden switch in speed sends Izaya over the edge first, the ecstacy even more intense than when Shizuo's mouth was wrapped around his cock. 

_"Fuck!"_ The brunette gasps, shuddering when Shizuo's hot cum starts to spill into him, filling him so completely that he can feel some of it leaking out. "Fuck fuck fuck... fuck... I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" 

"Yeah, yeah." Shizuo takes a second to catch his breath before hooking an arm underneath Izaya and hoisting him up, waiting to pull himself out until they've made it to what he correctly guesses is the master bathroom. "Holy shit..." 

"What?" 

"It's _huge."_ He marvels, setting Izaya down on a shiny black toilet complete with a fuzzy black seat cover. The walls are white, with black and white tiles lining the top and bottom that are an exact match to the black and white tiles making up the checkered floor; the bathmats look like they must have come in a set with the seat cover, the same fuzzy black material soft under his bare feet... and like the toilet, the chrome-fauceted sink is shiny and made of black porcelain. What's most impressive, however, is the bathtub itself; it's almost more like a jacuzzi, big enough to accomodate several people and fitted with chrome jets and a futuristic-looking shower head that seems even shinier than the faucets on the sink. "It's even bigger than the one downstairs." 

"The one downstairs is the guest bathroom. I rarely use it, so I don't see the point in doing anything particularly fancy with it. Help me in?" He holds out his hand, and Shizuo takes it, assisting Izaya in climbing into the tub before doing the same. Unlike his bathtub at home, there's plenty of room to move around and get comfortable... part of him wants to ask Izaya how much it cost, but he has a feeling the answer will just end up pissing him off. 

Izaya turns on the hot water and leans back against the side of the tub, letting himself relax as he waits for it to fill up. It doesn't take very long -- when it's finished he sets the jets on high, bursting out into giggles when the sudden onslaught of bubbles startles a loud yelp out of the other man. "Woah!" 

"Awww, did Shizu-chan get scared by the mean old bubbles~?" 

"I didn't get fucking _scared,_ flea!" He growls, the tip of his nose slightly pinker than it had been a few seconds ago. "Just surprised, is all. You could have fucking warned me you were gonna turn those on." 

"Why would I do that?" Izaya switches the jets to medium, settling so that his lower back is being massaged by the powerful stream. He lets out a contented sigh, his head falling back as he stretches his arms out along the edge of the tub. 

"Common fucking courtesy?" 

He snorts. "Because you've just been _sooooo_ courteous of me... right?" 

Shizuo's eye twitches, the corners of his lips curling into a frown -- but he can't argue, not when Izaya is still riddled with the bruises and bitemarks from the _first_ time he'd let himself act on his impulses. He sighs and leans back, allowing the warm water to loosen his muscles. "Yeah... you're right." 

Izaya feigns shock, covering his mouth with his hand. "Did Shizu-chan just admit I was _right?"_

"Don't let it go to your head." He warns, picking up one of the various bottles lining the tub and inspecting it curiously. "French Vanilla Kiss?" He reads, quirking an eyebrow. 

"I didn't know Shizu-chan could read! Very good, very good~!" Izaya applauds mockingly, laughing when Shizuo scowls and squeezes the bottle hard enough for it to explode all over them both. He leans forward, scooping some of the pearly goop off of Shizuo's arm before smearing it across the other man's face. Before he can move back, however, Shizuo's fingers have wrapped around his wrist. 

"You're pushin' it, flea." Shizuo presses his fingers into Izaya's flesh, using a little more strength than probably necessary. "I woke up in a good mood today. You don't really wanna ruin that, do you?" 

"I suppose that depends. What will you do if I say yes?" 

"Absolutely nothing." 

"Huh?" 

"I said, 'absolutely nothing.' You goin' deaf?" 

"I _know_ what you said--" 

"I'm thinkin' I need to explain it though, cuz I don't think you get it." Shizuo says, looking Izaya straight in the eye. "I don't mean that I'm not going to do anything. I'm just not gonna do anything to _you._ I'm not gonna look at you, I'm not gonna talk to you, I'm not gonna touch you -- hell, I'm not even going to acknowledge that you exist. Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time... do you _really_ want to ruin my good mood?" 

It's Izaya's turn to scowl now. "I really fucking hate you." 

"Yeah, you keep saying that, but..." Still looking him in the eye, Shizuo brings their faces even closer together and lowers his voice. "I think we _both_ know that's not true." 

Izaya's eyes narrow into a glare. "You don't know _anything,_ beast." He hisses, but the familiar insult bounces off Shizuo like he's wearing a bullet-proof vest. 

"Yeah, I _do."_ He replies, applying a little more force to his grip on the other's forearm. "I know that you're lonely. I know that you're miserable. I know that you're hurting, and I know that you're confused, and most of all I know that you're _scared._ And do you wanna know _how_ I know that, Izaya?" He asks, his tone surprisingly calm despite his frighteningly strong grip on the other's wrist. 

"Sure, Shizu-chan. Why not!" 

"It's because..." He takes a deep, heavy breath, his hold on the other loosening. "Because I feel the same way." 

"I'm sorry, but... what?" Izaya asks. Shizuo's right about one thing, at least... he's _definitely_ confused. "I don't understand... what are you trying to say?" 

"What I'm trying to say is..." Shizuo takes another deep breath, steeling himself before saying the three words no one -- _especially_ not himself -- would _ever_ have expected him to say to the man he's spent over a decade trying to kill... 

"...I love you."


	21. Friendship is Magic

For the first few seconds after the unexpected confession, Izaya simply stares at Shizuo with eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything, doesn't even blink... and then, without any sort of warning, he starts moving so quickly that Shizuo doesn't even register anything's changed until he's being splashed with water hot enough to sting his eyes and keep him from noticing the bottle of body wash aimed at his face until it's too late to stop the strong-smelling liquid from joining the water in burning his retinas. "FUCK!" He immediately lets go of Izaya's wrist, desperately trying to rub the crap out of his eyes before realizing that was probably _exactly_ what the flea had intended to happen. "Shit!"

Sure enough, by the time Shizuo's regained enough of his eyesight to start going after him, Izaya has already managed to get dressed and escape the room. "Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" He grabs his pants from where he'd left them on the floor and hastily yanks them on, doing the same with his dress shirt. He's still in the process of buttoning it when he kicks the door open, barreling over to the second floor railing in hopes that he'll be able to catch sight of the smaller man before he makes it out completely -- but all he finds is a slightly frazzled Celty and a sleepy, confused Shinra. 

"Have you seen--" 

"He's in the laundry room." Shinra says, yawning and stretching before noticing the tears in the other's red, swollen eyes. "Did something happen?" He asks, now a tiny bit concerned... but Shizuo has already thrown the door open, a loud, angry _"FUCK!"_ resounding throughout the entire apartment. 

"I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna fucking kill him!" 

Celty glances at Shinra before darting up the stairs, the other following her as soon as he's able to muster up the energy. He reaches the room just in time to see her staring out a large hole in the far wall, neither Izaya nor Shizuo anywhere to be seen. "Ah." 

[Should I go after him?] 

"Probably." 

She nods and disappears down the fire escape. He watches until he can't see her anymore, then sighs and shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. "You can come out now." 

A few seconds pass before the door to the clothes dryer swings open, several pieces of laundry tumbling to the floor when an obviously anxious Izaya pokes his head out. "How did you know I was in there?" He asks, pulling his head back in so he can climb out of the machine feet-first. 

"Considering you're in no condition to go running around outside, it seemed like the most likely option." He holds his hand out to help the other man to his feet. 

"My condition is perfectly fine, thank you very much." Izaya grumbles, holding on to the railing as he carefully makes his way down the stairs into the living room. He collapses onto the couch, wincing when the cushions cause him to bounce slightly. 

"Clearly." Shinra retorts, taking a seat on the couch opposite him. "Care to explain why you were hiding?" 

"I think I'd like some tea. Would you like some tea?" Izaya shakily pushes himself back up and makes a careful beeline for the kitchen, Shinra getting up to follow him. "I have jasmine, green, chai, earl grey, sweet and spicy--" 

"Earl grey is fine, thank you." Shinra leans against the counter and crosses his arms, watching Izaya with a frown on his face. "Now can you please answer the question, Orihara-kun? Why were you hiding? What happened?" 

Izaya doesn't answer, instead choosing to busy himself by filling the kettle up and setting it gently on the stove. He doesn't even know _how_ to answer... he's not even sure he'd heard Shizuo correctly. What if he'd said something else entirely, and Izaya had just heard what he'd wanted to hear? 

_Yes, that's probably it. It's the only thing that makes sense._

"Orihara-kun..." 

"You look exhausted, Shinra. I didn't wake you, did I? I apologize if I did... why don't you go lay back down on the couch, and I'll bring the tea in when it's ready?" 

"Yes, you did wake me, and no, I'm not going to go lay down. I know you well enough to know when you're trying to avoid answering a question. What happened? What did Shizuo-kun do?" 

"Nothing, Shinra. He didn't do anything... I just... wanted to see if I could trick him into leaving, that's all. And hey, it worked! Yay me!" 

"..." 

It's clear from Shinra's expression that he doesn't believe him in the slightest, so when the kettle starts to whistle he's thankful for the distraction. He's about to get the tray ready to take out into the living room when Shinra stops him, putting a hand on his shoulder and using it to maneuver him back towards the couch. "Wait--" 

"Sit down, Orihara-kun. I'll take care of the tea." 

"That's really not necessary--" 

"Sit down." 

"But I can--" 

_"Izaya._ Sit. _Down."_

Izaya shuts up, the serious tone in the other's voice telling him that it's in his best interest to listen. Shinra probably doesn't trust him to be able to carry the tray without dropping it; he can't blame him though, not when he can barely walk without having to hold on to something. 

_Pathetic._

Shinra returns with tray in hand, setting it down on the table and pouring the tea into two ceramic mugs. He hands one to Izaya and holds the other up to his lips, blowing on the steaming liquid as he settles back down on the couch. "So... now that you've got your tea, are you ready to tell me what he did?" 

Izaya stares down at his cup, frowning. "It wasn't something he... _did,_ per say..." 

"Then was it something he said?" 

"..." 

"I'll take that as a yes." Shinra takes a small sip of his tea, deciding it's still a little too hot for his liking. "What was it that he said? I imagine it had to be something shocking, in order to shake _you_ up like this." 

"I'm not shaken up, I just..." He gives up when Shinra raises his eyebrows, his voice trailing off. "Look... I'm just not sure I heard him correctly, that's all. It might be nothing. It's probably nothing. I mean... I'm hardly mentally stable right now, am I? I could have imagined the whole thing--" 

"Then what did it _sound_ like he said, Orihara-kun?" Shinra interrupts, blowing once more on his tea before taking another small sip. 

_Ah...much better._

"Well... it sounded like..." 

"Like...?" 

Izaya lets out a heavy, resigned sigh. "It sounded like... 'I love you.'" 

"...I see." He takes a much larger drink. 

"'I see?' That's it? That's all you have to say?" Izaya demands, his voice sharp. 

"What else do you want from me, Orihara-kun? Validation?" Shinra responds, setting his cup down. "I wasn't there. I didn't hear what Shizuo-kun said, so I can't tell you if you're right and you imagined it, or if you're wrong and you didn't. What I _can_ tell you, however, is that if the latter is true and Shizuo did, in fact, tell you he loves you... then he probably does." 

"No, no no no no no. He doesn't love me. He _can't_ love me, he _hates_ me! He's hated me since high school, and he'll hate me until the day he either kills me or gets killed himself. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be. Anything else is impossible." 

"Do you want to know what I think?" 

"Am I going to like it?" 

"Probably not." 

"Then no." 

"That's unfortunate, because I'm going to tell you anyway." Shinra says, taking another drink of his tea. "And you're going to listen, because listening is the intelligent thing to do and you are an intelligent person. Am I correct?" 

Izaya sighs. "Yes, Shinra. You are correct." 

"Excellent. Now..." He sets his cup back down and clears his throat, adjusting his glasses before letting his hands fold in his lap. _"I_ think that you don't believe for a second that it was just your imagination. I think that you know full well that if you heard him correctly -- and I think you did -- then that means Shizuo-kun actually _is_ in love with you, because Shizuo never says anything he doesn't mean. How am I doing so far?" 

"Horribly." 

"Great! Moving on." He ignores the glare Izaya sends his way. "I also think that the reason you were hiding is because accepting that Shizuo-kun is in love with you means having to face the fact that you're just as in love as he is, and that your obsession with humanity is just a way of projecting your self-loathing onto others because you never learned how to deal with it yourse--" 

"The only person I _loathe_ is Shizu-chan, Shinra. You're a surgeon, not a psychiatrist -- save the therapy session for the doctors that trained for it." 

"I don't need a degree in psychology to do a Google search on ancient runes -- or are you implying that carving 'argr' into your arm has absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that you've been sleeping with another man?" 

Izaya feels like he's going to be sick. He hates that Shinra's right; that he hates himself more than the beast ever could, that admitting it means letting go of the last bit of control he has left, and that he's terrified of what will happen if he does. 

_I really am pathetic..._

He's lost. He'd lost a long time ago, really, when his eyes met Shizuo's for the first time and he'd learned what it felt like to be seen for what he was: a coward, too scared to reach out but too weak to be alone. 

_Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..._

"Orihara-kun." 

"What?" Izaya can't bring himself to meet his friend's gaze. 

"I know it may seem like it... but it's not the end of the world. You'll get through this." 

"How do you know?" He asks, allowing himself a glance up. Shinra is looking at him with a oddly sensitive expression, the kind he didn't think possible for the lovestruck doctor to have for anyone other than Celty. 

"I don't... but I do know that you'll have help." 

He snorts. "Who would possibly want to help me, Shinra? Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny? Some other made-up all-powerful being equally likely to exist?" 

"I exist, don't I? Am I not here trying to help?" 

Izaya's gaze falls back to his lap. "I don't know why you're here, only that the beast wanted you to be." 

"That is incorrect." 

"Oh?" 

"Celty was the one Shizuo-kun contacted, not me. I came along because I wanted to make sure you were alright, and now that I know you are everything _but,_ I don't feel comfortable leaving." 

"Why not?" 

"'Why not?' You _slit_ your own _wrist,_ Izaya!" 

"So? The cuts will heal eventually. If I take care of them well enough, they might not even scar. And even if they do, it doesn't matter... no one will notice." 

"I would notice, if it were me. I'm sure the same is true for others." 

"You wouldn't notice, Shinra." 

"I'm fairly certain I would." 

"And I'm fairly certain you wouldn't." 

"Why is that?" 

Izaya goes silent again, the look on his face telling the other man all he needs to know. 

"You've done it before." 

"Only once. It was a long time ago." 

"When?" 

"I don't see why it matters." 

"I'm trying to help you, Orihara-kun!" 

"I didn't _ask_ for your help, Shinra. I didn't ask for _anyone's_ help!" He slams his cup down on the table, barely noticing the hot tea sloshing out onto his hand. He's starting to reach the end of his rope, his patience and self-control waning with each new development -- he just wants to be left alone, but instead he's being treated like a helpless child unable to survive without a baby-sitter there to make sure he doesn't try to microwave a metal dish or stick a fork in an electrical socket. "I've managed just fine on my own, and I will _continue_ to manage just fine on my own, so while your assistance is appreciated... it's not needed." 

"You've managed 'just fine' because you've spent your entire life avoiding anything even remotely resembling an emotional crisis -- a tactic that is no longer valid now that you're in the middle of one. Whether you like it or not, you _do_ need help... I can't in good conscience just sit idly by while you self-destruct." 

"Of course you can't. Your darling Celty would never approve of such behavior." 

"That's what you think this is about? Impressing Celty?" 

"Isn't everything?" 

"I'm your friend, Orihara-kun. Doesn't that matter to you?" 

"It does matter to me, Shinra, I just wasn't aware it mattered to _you."_

"Of course it matters, we've been friends since middle school!" 

"And how did we _become_ friends, Shinra? Because if I recall correctly, the only reason you approached me in the first place was because you wanted your Celty to think you had a social life, and I was the only person willing to help you start a club." There's no malice in his voice, no bitterness or spite... just the calm, even tone of a man who knows he's right. 

"I... that's..." Shinra can't think of anything to say, too distracted by the sudden realization that he has never once given Izaya a reason to think that he was anything more to him than a means to an end. 

"I wonder how long Shizu-chan is going to look for me before he realizes I never actually left? I wish I could see his face when he figures it out... oh, well! C'est la vie!" 

Shinra's phone buzzes, so he pulls it out to check it. "It's Celty." He tells him, typing up a quick reply. "She says they're on their way back." 

"Joy." 

Sighing, he returns the phone to his pocket. "Look... I'm willing to admit that I haven't been an ideal friend--" 

"That's alright, I never expected you to be." 

"-- _and_ you're absolutely correct that I might never have approached you had I not wanted to impress Celty. But if that was the _only_ reason, why would I still be going through all this trouble when I already have what I want? I love Celty, yes. I can't imagine a life worth living without her -- I would gladly die for her, if I had to. However, that doesn't mean that I can't care about other people. It might not be in the same way, or to the same degree... but it's no less real. Izaya..." He leans forward, making sure to keep eye contact. "Seeing you like this? It scares me. It scares me more than I ever thought possible. _That's_ why I'm here... because if there is _one_ thing you need right now, it's a friend. So please... let me _help."_

Izaya doesn't respond right away, and there's a brief moment where Shinra thinks he might not respond at all... but after a few seconds, the other man gives him his answer. 

"....alright, Shinra. I'll trust you."


	22. Wild Goose Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update already? I'm on a roll. 8D This one's pretty short, though, soooo... xD

_Gonna kill 'im, gonna kill 'im, gonna kill 'im..._

Shizuo stalks through the streets of Shinjuku with his hands shoved into his pockets, a furious look on his face, and a dangerous aura powerful enough to keep even the most clueless of people from wanting to cross his path. Celty is trailing a little ways behind him on Shooter, watching as he searches for the runaway informant in every nook and cranny he can find, even going so far as to check in dumpsters, trash cans, and recycling bins. She has a feeling that if they haven't found him by now, they aren't going to... unfortunately, Shizuo hasn't stopped looking long enough for her to communicate that. 

_I'm starting to wonder if Izaya even left the apartment..._

"Damn it... where the fuck _is_ he?!" The angry blonde smashes his fist against the wall of the closest building, causing several curious on-lookers to flee after seeing the way the bricks crumble to dust. Izaya could be anywhere; he's sneaky, swift, and sly, good at slipping like smoke through his fingers. 

_I could really use a cigarette..._

Sighing, he turns around, his eyes finally falling on his concerned friend. "Oh, hey Celty. Didn't notice you. You been following the whole time?" 

She nods. [Are you alright? It looked like you were crying.] 

"Huh? Oh, no. The little shit blinded me with some shower gunk before he ran for it... still burns like hell, too." 

[What happened?] 

"I told him I loved him." 

It's not the answer she's expecting, and it catches her so off-guard that she drops her phone. She saves it before it hits the cement, quickly typing up her reply. [YOU WHAT???] 

"Yeah, I know. Stupid, right? Damn, I _really_ fucking need a cigarette. There's gotta be a convenience store around here somewhere, right?" He pats his pants for his wallet, his temper flaring up again when he finds it missing. _"Shit!"_

[What's wrong?!] 

"I left my goddamn wallet at the apartment!" 

She immediately slips her own wallet out from her sleeve and counts what she hopes is enough yen for a pack of cigarettes. She holds the money out to him and points down the street towards a small gas station, but Shizuo just shakes his head. "Thanks, but I've still got a full pack back at the flea's. Let's call it quits -- probably not gonna find him out here anyway." Relieved, she nods in agreement, choosing to walk Shooter instead of riding so that she can keep an even pace with the blonde as they start heading in the direction of Izaya's apartment. She has so many questions she wants to ask, but she doesn't know how to ask them; Shizuo seems calm enough now, but that could change at a moment's notice and she doesn't particularly want to be the cause of that. Luckily for her, she doesn't have to ask for Shizuo to start giving her the answers she's looking for. 

"I don't know what I was thinking. No, scratch that. I know what I was thinking -- nothing, that's what. I wasn't fucking thinking at all, just like every other second of every minute of every hour and day and week and month and year. What the hell did I _think_ was gonna happen, some sort of 'love heals all wounds' bullshit? I can't even get him to eat anything!" 

[He's not eating?] 

"Not in front of me, at least. He refuses everything I offer... acts like he's not hungry when I know for a damn fact that he is. It's like he's starving himself out of spite." 

_Not sleeping **or** eating? What is he surviving on, sheer willpower alone?_

Shooting a quick text to Shinra to let him know they're on their way back, she thinks about the conversation she'd had with Izaya this morning. She hadn't realized it at the time, but in his own eccentric way, he must have been trying to express his emotions. 

Her text notification sound plays, alerting her to a response from Shinra. _'Yay, I miss you! Hurry back soon! :) <3 <3 <3'_

_Idiot..._

"What's really fucking frustrating is that I have no idea how to deal with him. I don't wanna hurt him anymore, Celty. I don't wanna _fight_ him anymore. That's how I know I love him, you know? Because he's been trying really damn hard to piss me off, and I have done a _damn_ good job at not letting him no matter how much he makes me wanna fucking strangle him to death." His hands wrap around an invisible neck, squeezing the air like he's choking it... and then he lets his arms fall to his side, letting out a deep sigh. "I don't know what to do. Everything I try just makes shit worse... but I know I can't do nothing, 'cause I'm the one that fucking started this goddamn shit show. I can't just bow out when the going gets tough." 

She nods. 

"I know he loves me, too. He won't say it, but I know it. It's why he hates me -- because I make him feel things he doesn't wanna feel, and that scares him. I know, 'cause I'm the same way. I was in love once before, you know -- though I guess it was more like a childhood crush. Ended up hurting her when I was trying to help, so I told myself I'd never love anyone ever again 'cause I'd just end up hurting them. Guess that backfired, huh?" He says, smiling sadly. 

Celty reaches out, hesitating for only a second before placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Shizuo relaxes slightly, his smile lightening up a little. "Thanks, Celty. I'm really lucky to have a friend like you." His smile fades a bit. "Kinda makes me wonder, though... do you think he'd be this fucked up if I'd just given him a chance in the first place?" 

[There's no way to know if things would have been different. All you can do now is focus on the present.] 

"Yeah, I guess so. No use crying over spilled milk, right?" 

[Right.] 

The apartment complex comes into sight, and the two slow down so they can keep talking for a little while longer. "Where do we even go from here, though? What do we do now? We can't go back to the way things were. He knows it, I know it... whether we like it or not, our relationship has changed. What it is now, I dunno... I don't even know what I want it to be, only that it can't stay the way it is or shit's just gonna get worse. _He's_ gonna get worse. I can't let that happen, Celty... I can't let him get worse, he won't _survive_ if he gets worse. What if he tries to kill himself?" His fists clench at his sides, tears once more starting to well up in his eyes... only this time, they're not from having body wash squirted in his face. "I finally got my hands on him, you know? I finally _have_ him! I don't wanna lose him again... but I'm scared, Celty. I'm really fucking scared, because I have no goddamn idea how to make things right and I'm not even sure I fucking _can."_

She's not sure what to say. She's not used to seeing Shizuo like this... she almost misses the angry, out of control version of him that she's become accustomed to. Taking a moment to figure out how to word her thoughts, she decides to take a chance and give him her honest opinion. [Izaya has spent a long time under the impression that you hated him and wanted him dead, and it's only been a couple of days since you gave him a reason to think otherwise. He's still struggling to come to terms with his own feelings... he needs time. He's not going to be able to adjust without it.] 

"I can't just leave him alone, what if he tries to hurt himself again?" 

[You're only responsible for your own actions, Shizuo. Not his, too.] 

"But there's no telling what kinda shit he might pull if he gets the chance. I can't trust him, Celty... not after ten years of putting up with his evil mastermind bullshit." 

[Don't you think that's a little unfair?] 

"How the hell is it unfair?" 

They're at the door of the apartment complex now, but Celty is still trying to figure out how to answer without setting him off. After a moment, she decides to just say it. [It sounds like you want him to trust you, but trust is a two-way street. He may not have given you any reason to trust him, but you haven't exactly given him any reason to trust you, either. You're asking for something you're not willing to give... can't you see how that might be a little unfair?] 

"Yeah... I can." He admits, going through the door into the apartment lobby. He passes the security guard without so much as a glance, waiting for Celty to finish parking Shooter before carefully pressing the button to the elevator. "So what should I do, then? I'm not good at thinking about this kinda stuff, and I'm fresh outta ideas." 

[Hmmm....] They enter the elevator, Shizuo just as carefully pressing the button for Izaya's floor. [It's just a suggestion, but maybe you should try telling him everything you've just told me. If you're honest and open about your feelings, he might feel more comfortable being honest and open about his own.] 

"Maybe..." The doors open, and they step out onto the ninth floor and start heading down the hall towards Izaya's apartment. "I guess it's worth a shot, at least..." He says, pausing right outside the door so he can make sure he's calm before going in. When he's confident he's got himself completely under control, he pushes the door open, letting Celty go in first before entering and shutting it behind him.


	23. Progress?

"....Alright, Shinra. I'll trust you."

The relieved doctor doesn't even have time to reply before the sound of the front door opening alerts them to the return of the two "monsters," Izaya's eyes snapping to the entryway as his entire body tenses, reflexively readying itself for that familiar feeling of "fight or flight." Shinra immediately stands up, moving between him and the door with his hands raised in a gesture of peace; it's not the smartest thing he's ever done, but he wants to show Izaya that he means what he said, and he believes in Celty enough to trust that she's managed to calm Shizuo down so that he's at least willing to give him the chance to speak. "Shizuo-kun -- " He starts... but the blonde isn't even looking at him, his eyes locked directly on the man behind him. 

"Welcome back, Shizu-chan." Izaya greets him, his anxiety betrayed by the subtle waver in his voice. "Did you have a nice walk?" 

"Have you been here the entire fucking time?" 

"Yep!" 

"Where the hell were you hiding?" 

"Guess!" 

"..." Wordlessly, he walks past them, climbs up the stairs, and once more enters the laundry room. His eyes scan the tiny room until they land on a sock stuck in the door of the dryer, a few more pieces of clothing scattered around on the tiled floor. 

_God **damn** it!_

He takes a deep breath, counting down from ten to zero before heading back into the living room. "You were in the goddamn dryer, weren't you." It's more like a statement than the question it's worded as. 

"Indeed! I'm actually surprised you didn't find me -- you're always going on and on about how much I stink, you'd think that nose of yours would've sniffed me out." 

"This is your apartment, ain't it? The whole fucking place smells like you, how the hell am I supposed to pick your sorry ass apart from the rest of it?" Izaya shrugs, watching warily as Shizuo grabs his cigarettes off the kitchen counter and plops down on the couch opposite him. When he goes to light one, he opens his mouth to protest before Shizuo holds up a hand to stop him. "I know, I know. You don't want me smoking in here, I get it... but I really fucking need one right now, so could you please let it slide this time?" 

He wants to say no out of principle, but Shizuo actually appears to be trying rather hard to stay calm, and for once he doesn't want to ruin that. He sighs. _"Fine."_

"Thanks." Shizuo lights his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out in a heavy exhale. Relaxing almost instantly, he lays his head back and closes his eyes. 

Celty takes a seat next to him, motioning for Shinra to sit back down. [Shizuo told me what happened. Are you okay?] 

Izaya looks up at the place where her eyes would be, his own reflected back in the tinted plastic of her visor. The image is distorted, but not enough to keep him from noticing that the dark circles under his eyes aren't quite as dark as they had been yesterday. "I don't know." He answers truthfully, glancing nervously at Shizuo before returning his attention to Celty. "But I doubt I can get any worse, at this point!" 

_I don't..._ She thinks, deciding it best to keep her opinion to herself. It's obvious from the look on Shinra's face that he's thinking the same thing. [Have you had breakfast?] 

"Hmm?" He quirks an eyebrow quizzically, not sure why the Dullahan would care about his meal habits. "That's a strange thing to ask. Why the curiosity?" 

[Shizuo says he hasn't seen you eat anything since this whole thing began. I find that kind of concerning...] 

"Wait, you haven't been eating?" Shinra asks, this information new to him. "Orihara-kun, that's not the slightest bit healthy--" 

"Whether I eat or not is no one's business but my own." Izaya interrupts, scowling. "Besides, I haven't been hungry." 

"Bullshit. You tried to pull that crap the other morning, and your stomach was growling so fucking loud I'd've confused it for thunder had it not been so goddamn _nice_ outside." 

"Funny... I thought the same thing about your snoring." 

"Yeah, I snore! So fucking what? Stop trying to change the goddamn subject!" 

"Orihara-kun, you need energy if you want to recover anytime soon. That means eating, sleeping, drinking plenty of water--" 

"Speaking of sleeping, why the hell were you giving Celty such a hard time last night?" 

"Wait, he was giving my darling Celty a hard time?!" 

"She was trying to get him to go to sleep but he wouldn't fucking listen. Ended up having to take him to bed myself." 

"Why didn't you want to go to sleep, Orihara-kun? That you're not eating is bad enough, if you're not getting proper rest either, your immune system will plummet considerably--" 

Shizuo and Shinra continue to talk at him, but Izaya can no longer hear a word of what they're saying; he can see their lips moving, but no sound is reaching his ears. It's like a TV show on mute, only without the closed captioning meant to give context to the otherwise meaningless situation. Celty is the first to realize that something's going on... she's not as involved in the discussion as the other two are, and is therefore not too distracted to notice the way Izaya seems to have mentally checked out of their conversation. She reaches across and gently taps his shoulder, trying to draw his attention back to the present. [Are you okay?] She asks again, searching his face for a clue to help her figure out what he's thinking. He doesn't answer -- she can't tell if he's ignoring her, or if he just hasn't realized she's trying to communicate with him. [Izaya?] 

Finally catching on to the fact that something's not quite right, Shinra stops talking and takes a moment to assess the situation. Izaya hasn't spoken for a few minutes now, and his eyes seem to be focused on something invisible to everyone other than himself; it's clear that he hasn't heard a single word either of them have said, and the only explanation that makes any sense to him isn't exactly reassuring. 

_Please, please, **please** tell me he isn't dissociating..._

"Flea?" Shizuo is the last one to tune in to the here and now, but even he's perceptive enough to sense that something's up. When Izaya doesn't answer right away, he frowns and leans forward to snap his fingers directly in front of the other's face."Oi! Earth to flea!" 

Startled back to reality, Izaya reflexively tries to slap Shizuo's hand away before realizing the futility of the action. _"What?"_ He snaps; the other three are staring at him like he's grown a second head, and it's making him more than a little uncomfortable. "Can I _help_ you?" 

"Yeah, you can start by being less of an _ass."_ Shizuo snaps back, his eyes narrowing. "And while you're at it, maybe you could actually listen when people are talking to you!" 

"Oh, you were still talking? I hadn't noticed!" It's the truth, but he says it with the same smirk he wears when he's telling one of his more obvious lies. 

"God fucking dammit, Izaya! Why the hell do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? Can't you see I'm trying to help you?!" 

"Help me?" He laughs, unable to believe his ears. _"Help_ me? You? That's absolutely fucking _hilarious!_ If you really wanted to help me, you'd leave me alone!" 

"It's _because_ I'm trying to help you that I _can't_ leave you alone! Have you _looked_ in a goddamn mirror lately? You're a fucking mess!" 

"And who's fault is _that?_ I didn't ask for any of this, all _I_ wanted was to get out of the rain! You're the one that decided to waltz in and--" 

"I know!" 

_"Excuse me?"_

"I know! I fucking know!" He feels like ripping his hair out, so frustrated with the situation that he almost wants to cry. "I know this is my fucking fault, I know I fucking fucked up, and I know I have no goddamn right to ask you for a single fucking thing, but it's _because_ I fucked up that I'm trying so goddamn hard to get it through your thick fucking head that I fucking _care_ about you, you goddamn piece of shit!" 

The silence that follows could be considered deafening, Izaya's mouth opening and closing uselessly as he struggles to come up with some sort of clever comeback; but he can't, Shizuo's impassioned admission flinging him so far out of his comfort zone that he's not sure how to find his way back. Thankfully, Shinra knows him well enough to be able to pick up on his discomfort and react accordingly. He clears his throat, regaining their attention and reminding them that they're not the only ones currently involved in the present situation. "Hello, friends! Can we please get back to the issue at hand?" 

Realizing that he's starting to once more let his emotions get out of control, Shizuo takes another deep breath, nodding his agreement. Izaya, however, isn't quite ready to let things go. "'Issue at hand?' The only issue _I_ can see is that a certain _monster_ refuses to leave my apartment!" 

"I get why you're upset, Orihara-kun, but--" 

"No! No _but's!"_ Izaya's reached his limit, no longer willing to sit here and take any of this. "Russia Sushi was supposed to be neutral territory! It was supposed to be a place where I could go where I didn't have to worry about that _thing_ trying to hunt me down -- it was supposed to be _safe._ And he _ruined_ it!" 

"Orihara-kun--" 

"No! No! No, no, no, no, _no!"_ He stands up, flinging an accusing finger in Shizuo's direction. "He ruined it! He fucking _ruined_ it! And now, now, _now_ I'm supposed to just sit back and let him do the same thing to my own damn home?!" 

"You fucking cut yourself!" Shizuo jumps to his feet, causing Shinra to flinch instinctively. 

"And _you_ fucking _choked_ me!" Izaya shouts in response, yanking down the collar of his hoodie to expose the nasty, hand-shaped bruise. _"Remember?"_

The bruises looks even nastier than they did before, the sight of them causing Shizuo to completely freeze up as he stares down at Izaya's neck. He does remember, unfortunately... he'd been buzzed, and tired, and stressed, and pissed off, and the only thing that had stopped him from wringing the life out of the annoying little pest was the tears that had started to stream down his cheeks. His throat suddenly feeling very, very dry, he swallows hard as he tries to think of something, _anything_ to say; but he can't, too overwhelmed by his guilt to form any words. It isn't until he feels a tug on his sleeve that he shakes himself out of it, Celty having decided it might be helpful to give him a little nudge. [Now might be a good time to tell him what you told me.] 

"Yeah..." Shizuo flops back down and pulls out a new cigarette, their argument having gone on long enough for the last one to burn out before he'd gotten got a chance to finish it. "Yeah, you're right." He lights it, taking a deep hit and exhaling slowly. 

"Wait, right about what?" Izaya asks, not a fan of hearing only one side of a conversation -- especially when it's about him. "What did she say?" 

"That I should tell you what I told her." Shizuo answers. He's not sure Izaya will even listen, but he doesn't plan on backing out now. He takes another drag. "So... you willing to let me speak?" 

"What's in it for me?" 

"How about this..." He licks his thumb and forefinger and snuffs out his cigarette, returning it to the pack and setting it aside. "I'll stop smoking in here, and if you still want me gone after you hear what I have to say, I will get my shit and get out. Deal?" 

It's a pretty good offer, so he only pretends to think about it before agreeing to the other's terms. "I suppose I can humor you a little bit." 

"Good." This is already going smoother than he'd expected it to. "Look, I..." And then he's stuck again, having so much to say but having no idea how to say it. Normally, Izaya would use this as a chance to make some scathing remark; currently, however, the hopeful part of him that he's spent so long trying to stifle is telling him that maybe, _maybe,_ he should take a chance and let the monster present its case. He chooses instead to simply stay silent, neither discouraging or encouraging the other man... but to Shizuo, his decision to not argue or interrupt is all the spark he needs to continue. "I don't want to fight anymore, Izaya. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of yelling and losing my shit and destroying things and hurting people -- especially people I care about, and despite how goddamn _annoying_ you are, you still count. _More_ than count, even. Look, maybe I had no right to tell you that I love you after spending so long trying to kill you, but it's the fucking _truth,_ okay? I love you, and I _know_ you love me too, and _that's_ why I can't just up and leave. Got it?" 

Izaya doesn't answer, not sure how he wants to respond. He can't lie to Shizuo; the other man has always been able to see right through him, so anything he might come up with would most likely fail from the get-go -- but he can't tell the truth, either, because that would mean admitting once and for all that he _is,_ in fact, in love with the hot-tempered idiot (a fact that he's barely willing to admit to himself, let alone to the idiot in question). Luckily, Shizuo doesn't bother waiting for him to say anything. 

"I get that you're scared, Izaya, I really do. I'm scared, too. Hell, I'm fucking _terrified._ I have no idea what I'm doing or even what I'm _supposed_ to do, and I've spent so long refusing to deal with my _own_ shit that I don't know the first thing about how to deal with anyone else's. It's frustrating as hell, and you're not exactly making it any easier on me. What do I have to do to get through to you, huh? What do I have to do to get you to let me _in?_ Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it, okay?!" 

"Fatty tuna." 

"Wait, what?" He's confused. "What do you mean, 'fatty tuna?'" 

"You asked me what I want, yes? Well, I want fatty tuna." Izaya crosses his legs, tilting his head and smiling at Shizuo in a way that reminds him of a spoiled housecat watching as the neighbor's dog tries uselessly to jump high enough to reach its perch on the fence. 

"Fatty tuna." He repeats, his brow furrowing as he forces himself to let it slide. He can't tell if Izaya's being serious or not, but if he is... well, he's never been the type to go back on his word. "You mean, like... in sushi?" 

"Yep." 

"Got any place specific in mind, or...?" He has a feeling he already knows the answer. 

"Russia Sushi~!" 

"I figured as much." Sighing, he pushes himself up from his seat and goes to get the rest of his discarded clothing from Izaya's bedroom. "But if I'm going all the way to Ikebukuro just to get you sushi, you better fucking eat it." He warns, fixing his bowtie before pulling his glasses out of his vest pocket and pushing them up his nose. 

"Don't worry, Shizu-chan. Never once have I let perfectly good fatty tuna go to waste, and I have no desire to start now -- though if you take _too_ long, it might lose its freshness, and then it wouldn't be 'perfectly good' anymore, now would it?" 

_I'll show you 'perfectly good', you bratty little flea..._ Leaving the thought unspoken, Shizuo puts on his socks and shoes and grabs his pack of American Spirits off the end table, about to head out the door before Celty waves to get his attention. 

[Would you like me to give you a ride?] 

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Celty." 

[Shinra, do you want anything?] 

"Only your eternal love and undying devotion, my ethereal go--" 

And with that, she's gone, the door swinging shut behind her.


	24. Chance Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohooo! Another update! It's a short one, but I've decided that I'd rather post short to medium chapters more often than keep you guys waiting for three months while I try to battle a long one. In any case, I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and thanks for all the well-wishes in response to my last A/N. I may not respond to your comments (mainly because I'm an anxious potato that is afraid of people), but I read every single one of them. I never delete the email notifications, either... when I'm feeling insecure, I go back and reread them. You guys are the greatest. <3 Thank you so much for reading. :)

[He wasn't ignoring you, you know.]

"Huh?" 

[Izaya. He wasn't ignoring you.] 

"Yeah? How do you figure?" The two of them are currently standing in front of Russia Sushi, having gone outside so Shizuo could smoke while they're waiting for Izaya's fatty tuna to be done. 

[His eyes.] 

"What about 'em?" 

[There was something off about them.] 

"What do you mean?" 

[I don't really know how to explain it... it was like one minute he was there, and the next he wasn't.] 

Shizuo's not entirely sure he gets what she's trying to say, but he's willing to guess that it's probably yet another thing to add to the growing list of stuff he has to worry about. "What, like he just randomly started spacing out?" 

[Kind of? I think there's a term for it but I can't remember what it is.] 

"Huh..." He frowns, taking another drag. "That doesn't sound good." 

[It isn't. If it's what I think it is, he might not even know he's doing it.] 

"Shit... what if he does that when he's crossing the street or something?" 

[And there's still plenty of other people that want him dead.] 

"Yeah, I fuckin' bet. It's like he _wants_ people to hate him." 

[Maybe he does.] 

"Yeah, but why?" 

[The same reason he antagonizes you, I imagine. He's afraid of getting hurt.] 

"How the hell is pissing people off supposed to keep him from getting hurt?" 

[You can't get your heart broken if nobody wants it in the first place.] 

It's jarring, how drastically his perception of the other man has changed in such a short amount of time; those same words a week ago would have sounded like a giant steaming pile of horse shit, but with what he knows now, they make perfect sense. "Fuck..." He sighs, taking a long hit as he leans back against the storefront. The more he gets to know Izaya, the more he realizes how little he'd actually understood him. 

_Maybe if I'd just taken the time to try..._

"But no use crying over spilled milk." He mutters, putting his cigarette out before heading inside to check on his order. The sudden shift from the bright sunlight to the dim restaurant lobby makes it difficult for him to see where he's going, and it isn't until he's almost directly on top of him that his eyes adjust and he sees the familiar face of Kadota Kyohei. "Oh, hey Kadota." He holds his hand up to greet him. 

"Hey." Kadota responds, returning the gesture. "What's up?" 

"That's one helluva loaded question that I don't have the time or patience to answer." He replies bluntly, having no desire to lie but not wanting to complicate things any more than they already are. Thankfully, the other man doesn't press. 

"Gotcha. I won't ask, then." 

"Oiiiii, Dotachin! Do you -- oh, hey! It's Shizu-chan!" 

Kadota cringes as he turns to the source of the voice, an excited woman in all black that Shizuo recognizes as one of Kadota's normal crew. "Could you please quit it with the nicknames?" 

Ignoring him completely, the woman beams brightly up at Shizuo like he's the best thing that's happened to her all afternoon. "Long time no see! How is Iz--" She's barely able to get the first syllable out before a hand covers her mouth and the sharp-eyed man he always sees her with drags her back, assisted by the man he's pretty sure was the one whose van door he'd ripped off in the fight with that slasher guy a while back. 

"Hahaha, don't mind us! We'll just be... uh... somewhere else!" The sharp-eyed man says, obviously nervous about something. The van driver nods in agreement, and even Kadota seems to be on edge; confused, Shizuo frowns. It sounded like she was about to ask after Izaya, but if that was the case, it didn't explain the way the three men seem to be expecting some sort of blow-up... unless, he realizes, they thought that just the mere mention of the flea would be enough to set him off. 

_I guess I don't blame 'em..._

But it still doesn't explain why she'd asked him, of all people. There's no way she can know what's going on -- had it been a guess, or is there some other reason she'd decided to bring him up? 

The door to the restaurant opens and Celty pokes her head in, having wondered why Shizuo hadn't come back out yet. Immediately assessing the situation, she tugs on Shizuo's sleeve to get his attention. 

"Huh? Oh, it's you. Sorry I'm taking so long, I got distracted." 

[Don't worry about that. You haven't mentioned Izaya at all, have you?] She angles her PDA so only he can see the screen. 

"No, didn't think it was anyone else's business. Why?" 

[Karasawa has been obsessed with the idea of you two being together for as long as I've known her -- if she gets even a hint that she might be right, she won't stay quiet about it.] 

_Fucking great..._

It's at that moment that Dennis deposits a to-go box unceremoniously on the counter. "Your fatty tuna's ready." He says flatly, then turns towards Kadota and the rest of his group. "Are you ready to pay?" 

"Ah... yeah." Kadota says, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket as Shizuo grabs the sushi off of the counter. "See you around, Shizuo." 

"Yeah. See you around." Sparing one last glance at the restrained woman, he heads out the door. 

It isn't until both him and Celty are out of sight that Erika is finally released, her friends less than pleased with her behavior. "Are you insane?" Yumasaki hisses. "Your fujoshi fantasies are going to get us all killed!" 

"They're not just fantasies, Yumacchi! Didn't you hear what Shizu-chan ordered?! Fatty tuna is Izayan's favorite, he must have been buying him lunch! How cute is that?" There's a dreamy look on her face as she imagines the two men feeding each other pieces of sushi. 

"Nonononono! Kadota-san, tell Karisawa-san that she's wrong! There's no way Orihara-san and Heiwajima-san are together, that's just crazy!" 

"Yeah, it's crazy." He responds automatically, but there's something nagging at him, something that makes the words come out a little less than certain. There's definitely something going on, and until he figures out what it is, he can't afford to ignore any possible explanations... no matter how much he wishes he could.


	25. Alone At Last

When Celty and Shizuo get back to the apartment, they find Shinra passed out on the couch and Izaya watching what seems to be some sort of documentary about caves (Shizuo's not entirely sure, because he doesn't speak English and there aren't any subtitles). "I got your sushi." He says, dropping it into Izaya's lap before plopping down next to him. "Happy now?"

"Overjoyed." Izaya replies, his tone only slightly sarcastic. He opens the to-go box and picks up a piece of the sushi, pops it into his mouth, and chews it slowly so he can savor the delicious flavor of his favorite food. He picks up another piece, chewing that one a little less slowly... and then he picks up another, and another, and another, eating them faster and faster as his hunger finally takes over and he scarfs down the rest like his life depends on it. He's visibly disappointed when the box is empty, but some of the color has returned to his cheeks and he looks a little less dead than he had earlier. 

_Thank goodness..._

[Are you guys going to be okay if I take Shinra home?] Celty asks, figuring that they've both probably done everything they can at this point. 

"I think so." Shizuo responds. Izaya is fixated on the television; he's not entirely sure what could be so great about a cave, but Izaya seems to be enjoying it, so it's at least a step in the right direction. 

[Alright. Text me if you need anything.] She says, pausing for a moment before adding: [Either of you.] Izaya nods and waves his hand dismissively, but she can tell by the the small, subtle smile on his face that her words have been noted. 

_He's actually kind of shy, isn't he?_ She thinks, shaking Shinra awake. 

Slightly disoriented, Shinra blinks a few times before sitting up and stretching, letting out a yawn. "Time to go?" He asks, his voice hopeful and still a bit groggy. She nods and helps him off the couch, letting go once he's steady so she can hand him his lab coat and medical kit. He puts on the coat and pats his pockets to make sure he has everything, then turns to the other two, stifling another yawn. "You both have my number, call me if there's an emergency. Orihara-kun, please try to take better care of yourself." 

"Yes, Mother~." 

"Shizuo-kun?" 

"I'll make sure he does." 

"Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home so I can sleep in my own bed." 

"You're going to ruin your sleep schedule, Shinra." Izaya says, his gaze still locked on the T.V. 

"I am too exhausted to care, Orihara-kun. Shall we, my lady?" He holds his elbow out to Celty, pouting when she ignores it and opts for opening the door instead. "Ah, love... so cruel, yet so beautiful." Sighing overdramatically, he follows her out into the hall and shuts the door behind him, leaving Shizuo and Izaya alone in the apartment once more. 

At first, neither of them say anything; Shizuo has no idea how to talk to Izaya in any sort of casual sense, and even if he did, the documentary still has his full attention. After a while, he decides to just go for it. "Oi." 

"Hm?" 

"That thing you're watching. What is it?" 

"'The Cave of Forgotten Dreams.'" 

"What's it about?" 

"The cave of forgotten dreams." He repeats, smirking when he sees Shizuo's eye twitch. 

"Yeah, I _figured_ as much, smartass. What's so great about it, though? You don't seem like a cave person." 

Izaya wants to make a comment about Shizuo seeming like a _literal_ cave person, but he decides against it. "It's not the cave I'm interested in so much as what was found inside." 

"What was found inside?" 

Izaya sighs and pauses the video, pointing at the screen with the remote. On it is a close-up image of one of the walls of the cave, covered almost entirely in what looks to be prehistoric paintings of various different animals. "Do you see those?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Not only are those some of the oldest cave paintings ever found, they also happen to be remarkably well-preserved... the cave itself wasn't discovered until 1994, approximately 30,000 years since it was last occupied (due to what was most likely some sort of landslide that blocked the only usable entrance); it was sealed off _so_ well, in fact, that even a child's footprints were left intact -- footprints that are considered to be the oldest set we can accurately date. It's practically a gold mine of early human culture, and it's definitely one of the most significant anthropological finds since..." Suddenly remembering who he's talking to, his voice trails off. "But you probably don't care about that sort of thing, do you?" 

"I can't say I really understand any of it, but I guess they look pretty cool." 

He snorts. "Well, you're not _wrong..._ they do look pretty cool. Here... because I'm so nice, I'll turn on the subtitles so you can follow along." 

It's Shizuo's turn to snort. "Nice? That's a good one." 

"Thanks, I try." He blows him a kiss. 

Shizuo rolls his eyes and tries to focus on the screen, but he's finding it difficult to stay interested when he has Izaya sitting right there next to him. He's so close that he can feel the other's body heat; he can even hear him breathing, the volume on the T.V having been kept low so Shinra could nap undisturbed. 

_Damn it... I wanna touch him so fucking bad..._

But more than anything, he wants Izaya to trust him -- something that won't happen as long as he lets his emotions stay in control, so he keeps his hands to himself despite how much he's itching to do the opposite. What he doesn't know, however, is that Izaya is having just as much trouble focusing as he is; he's so hyper aware of the man beside him that it feels like the hair on the back of his neck is standing on end, and every time Shizuo shifts, he stiffens as if expecting him to do something. By the time a few awkwardly silent minutes have passed, he's starting to wish he would. 

_Just fucking **touch** me already, you stupid beast!_

Every second seems like an hour, Izaya too stubborn to actually ask for what he wants and Shizuo too stubborn to give it to him without him asking. The silence continues to drag on until Izaya's too worked up to keep waiting for the other man to make the first move; shifting so that he's not so much sitting as he is lounging, he drapes one leg over Shizuo's lap and lets the other dangle over the edge of the couch. 

Shizuo hadn't been expecting any sort of contact from Izaya, so when he feels the warmth of his leg on top of his thighs, his heart starts beating a little faster and he starts to find it a little harder to behave. 

_I can do this. I can do this. I can--_

And then he glances down and sees the outline of Izaya's erection straining in his too-small pajama pants, and the flush on his cheeks, and the way he's looking everywhere but at him as he pretends to still only be interested in his documentary... 

_...I can't do this._

Giving up, he lets his hand creep up the inside of Izaya's thigh, encouraged by the way Izaya shivers and closes his eyes. He starts rubbing him through the soft fabric, leaning forward to kiss him as Izaya releases a pleased little sigh and spreads his legs wide -- enough that his pants start ripping at the seams, exposing his twitching hole. Izaya is so horny at this point that he all but sucks in Shizuo's fingers, moaning as they start to slowly twist inside of him. "Oh, fuck... _Shizu-chan..."_

Using his free hand to start jerking Izaya off, Shizuo kisses him gently yet passionately, groaning when Izaya tugs at his lower lip with his teeth. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" He breathes, teasingly rubbing the slit with his thumb. 

"The feeling's mutual." Izaya murmurs against his mouth, reaching between them so he can unbutton Shizuo's slacks and yank them down his hips. Swallowing, he takes hold of the other's hard cock and starts to pump it uncertainly -- but he soon discovers that the faster and more confidantly he pumps, the faster Shizuo's fingers turn, and the faster Shizuo's fingers turn, the closer he gets to orgasm. Before he can get _too_ close, however, Shizuo pauses to pull a brand-new bottle of lube out of his pocket. “Hurry up.” He says, the command coming out needier than intended. 

"Do _you_ wanna do it?" Shizuo asks, raising his eyebrows. He's not expecting Izaya to say yes, so when he nods and holds out his hand, he's a little surprised. "Wait, seriously?" The thought of the other man getting him slicked up and ready is starting to make him even more excited. 

"How many times have we used lube so far?" 

"Uh... twice?" 

"Correct. And how many times have you had to buy more lube?" 

"...Twice." 

"Exactly. Need I say more?" 

Instead of gracing him with a response, Shizuo just glares and hands over the bottle of lube. 

"Thought not." Smirking smugly, Izaya uncaps the bottle and squeezes a generous amount into his hand before tossing it onto the end table and wrapping his hand around Shizuo's length. Scooping up the excess lube with his fingers, he makes sure they're sufficiently coated before sliding them into himself, a low moan escaping his lips. 

"Fuck..." Shizuo's not sure what's getting to him more: the sensation of Izaya's lube-covered hand stroking his cock, or the sight of him fingering himself while he's doing it. _"Fuck,_ that's hot..." 

"Thanks." Izaya responds breathlessly, his words as coated in sarcasm as his fingers are in lube. He doesn't need to look to know where Shizuo's eyes are focused; he's watching him so intently that he can feel it, the weight of the other man's stare both embarrassing _and_ arousing. When he's satisfied, he pulls out his fingers and pushes at Shizuo's chest. Able to guess what he wants, Shizuo leans back so he can climb on top of him and straddle his lap in such a way that his head is rubbing right up against his entrance; biting his lower lip, he sinks down onto the other man's throbbing cock, taking a minute to adjust before slowly starting to ride it. 

"Shit, Izaya..." Shizuo groans, his hands traveling down Izaya's back so they can grope at his supple ass. He kisses him again, grinding up into the tight, moist heat... he almost cums right then and there, but he manages to hold it in, determined to last for as long as he can. 

Izaya, on the other hand, really wants his release. He starts riding Shizuo faster, once more about to cum when too-strong hands force him to slow down to an agonizing pace. _"Shizu-chan..."_ He whines, starting to get impatient. 

"Yeah?" Fully sheathed, Shizuo starts rotating his hips. "Something wrong?" 

"Hn... ah... _hnnn..."_

"Huh? Didn't quite hear you... was that a 'no, Shizu-chan, nothing's wrong, please fuck me forever'? 

"Hah... you wish..." 

"To fuck you forever?" He asks, suckling on the crook of his neck. "Damn right, I do." 

"Nnn..." 

"Do you wanna know how often I think of fucking you? How often I dream of fucking you? How often I _masturbate_ to the thought of fucking you?" He starts moving just a little bit faster, a little bit harder, causing Izaya to moan and clutch onto his shirt. "Well? Do ya?" 

"I don't know." Izaya gasps. "Do I?" 

"You tell me." He goes a little faster still, shifting so that he's rubbing up against Izaya's spot every time he gyrates his hips. 

"Ah... ahhh, _fuck..."_ Waves of intense pleasure wash over Izaya, his eyes fluttering shut as he shudders and starts to orgasm, cum spilling from his cock as Shizuo picks up even more speed, bucking up into him over and over and over again until he's once more being filled with the beast's warm, sticky seed. Said beast carefully pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants so he doesn't drip all over the couch. Scooting back a little, he spreads Izaya's thighs so he can get a good look at his leaking hole, grinning when he notices how red Izaya's face has become. "What are you _doing,_ idiot?! Don't just stare at it!" 

"If you say so." Shizuo says with a smirk, scooting back further and leaning forward until his face is in-between Izaya's thighs. 

"Oh no. Don't you dare do what I think you're going to do, that's absolutely disgu-- _h-nnnnnn!"_ He arches his back, gasping as Shizuo's tongue wiggles inside of him. "Holy _fuck,_ I hate you!" 

Shizuo makes sure he's licked Izaya completely clean before sitting back and wiping off his lips, then leans forward to give him a peck on the forehead. "I love you, too." He retorts, getting up so he can get them both a glass of water. 

"Will you please stop saying that?" 

"I'll stop saying it when you believe it." 

Handing Izaya his glass, he waits to make sure he actually drinks it before he heads into the guest bathroom to get cleaned up.


	26. Chance Meetings, Revisited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but that might just be because of stress. I had to evacuate my home earlier this week, and I still haven't retrieved my cats, so I'm kinda 'blegh.' Oh, well.

_What exactly do I hope to accomplish by coming here?_

Kadota Kyohei is currently standing awkwardly in front of Orihara Izaya's apartment, shifting uncomfortably as he debates whether or not it's even worth it to check in on him. Sure, Izaya calls him a friend; but Izaya calls everyone his friend, so that's not really saying much. Besides, the other man's never really been what you'd call a 'good person'. The thing is, Kadota's known Izaya long enough to have seen how dependent he is on social interaction. That's why, when he'd tried to call him and was sent straight to voicemail, the fact that he couldn't even leave a message because Izaya's inbox was full was cause enough for concern. He's not sure if he thinks Izaya being M.I.A has anything to do with Shizuo's 'loaded question,' but it's enough of a coincidence that it doesn't feel right to ignore it. Taking a deep breath, he knocks firmly on Izaya's door. When a minute or so passes and there's still no answer, he knocks again. 

And again. 

And again. 

He's about to knock a fifth time when the door finally opens and he looks down at the person who opened it, slightly surprised to find him in anything other than his normal black v-neck and jeans -- but what he finds most surprising is how on edge he seems to be, Izaya peering up at him with an expression that reminds him more of a wary woodland creature than a narcissistic info broker. "Dotachin! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Even his voice sounds strained, like he's struggling just to keep it steady. 

Kadota scratches his head, unsure of how to word what he wants to say. "I, uh... ran into Shizuo earlier." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. At Russia Sushi. Something was up, but he wouldn't tell me what." 

"And? What does this have to do with me?" Izaya asks, his tone coming out a tad bit more defensive than he meant it to. 

"I don't know, but I figured if anyone would have an idea of what might be bothering him, it'd be you. Look, can we talk about this inside?" 

"You know, I'd love to chat, but I'm a little busy right now. Perhaps you could come back later?" He smiles, but Kadota can tell that it's not at all genuine. 

_Yeah... he definitely knows something._

"I promised Karisawa and Yumasaki that I'd catch a movie with them in a couple hours. Is your phone on?" 

"Why do you ask?" 

"I tried calling you, but all I got was voicemail. Have you lost weight?" Izaya's always been on the scrawny side, but he definitely looks smaller than Kadota remembers him being. 

"Could you excuse me for a second? Thanks." Izaya disappears back into his apartment without waiting for an answer, leaving Kadota to once more stand there awkwardly. After a few seconds, he hears what sounds like arguing coming from inside; at first he can't tell who the other voice belongs to, but the longer the arguing goes on, the louder it gets, until he's eventually able to recognize it as Shizuo's. 

_Oh no..._

When the door eventually opens again, it's not Izaya's face he's met with. "Hey, Kadota..." 

"Hey..." 

"I, uh..." Shizuo scratches his head, looking just as awkward as Kadota feels. "I guess you probably have a lot of questions, huh?" 

"Yeah, you could definitely say that..." 

"Come on in, then." 

"Thanks..." 

Kadota follows him into the apartment, Izaya nowhere to be seen. Shizuo gestures to the couch. "Go ahead and have a seat. I'll be right back." He goes up the stairs into what Kadota assumes to be Izaya's bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

_Please, please, please don't tell me I'm about to owe Karisawa 50,000 yen..._

When Shizuo comes back out a few minutes later, he has Izaya with him. He sits down on the other couch, Izaya taking the seat next to him; now that he's seeing the two of them together, Kadota'd have to be blind not to notice that the tension between them is a lot, lot, _lot_ more charged than the kind of tension a pair of enemies should have. 

_Shit..._

Izaya's changed out of his pajama pants, but he's still wearing the hoodie he'd answered the door in. Kadota doesn't know why this seems strange to him -- he could be cold, or it could just be a really comfortable sweater -- yet for some reason, it does. Pushing that thought to the backburner, he decides to just come right out and ask what's on his mind. "Are you guys sleeping together?" 

The question causes Izaya to stiffen, but Shizuo actually relaxes instead. "Well, that makes things a little easier, I guess... how'd you know?" 

"Call it a hunch..." Kadota glances at Izaya, who's been carefully avoiding making eye contact since he sat down. He gets the distinct impression that letting him come in might not have been his idea. 

_Was that what they were arguing about?_

"It was a pretty good hunch." 

"Thanks. Does anyone else know?" 

"Celty and Shinra, that's it. We were hoping to keep it that way, but... here you are." 

"Yeah... here I am." It feels like he's somehow wound up in an alternate timeline -- not a thing is making any sense. How long has this been going on? When did it start? _How_ did it start? "So, uh... how did this happen, exactly?" 

"It's kind of a long story." 

"Think you can summarize it?" 

"Ooh, ooh! I can!" Izaya says with a sort of sardonic excitement in his tone. "How about 'Shizu-chan is a closet pervert that gets off on watching me suffer'?" 

"Cute, flea -- but I think I like 'Izaya is a self-destructive little shit who gets off on making people hate him' better." Shizuo retorts, narrowing his eyes. 

"Um..." Kadota clears his throat, starting to realize that he may have gotten himself in over his head. "Look, I'm not here to judge anyone... I just want to know what's going on." His assurance is meant more for Izaya than Shizuo, who doesn't seem very worried about what his friend might think of him now that he's become aware of the less-than-traditional nature of their relationship. 

"I really don't mean to be rude, Dotachin--" 

"That's a laugh." Shizuo mutters under his breath. 

"--but it's really none of your business what's going on, so I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd do me the favor of leaving." 

Shizuo wants to argue against it, but he can tell by the look on Izaya's face that doing so would most likely end poorly. He stands back up, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. "Come on, I'll walk you out. Could use a cigarette anyway." He makes sure he has both his pack and his lighter before heading over to the door, holding it open so Kadota can follow him out into the hall. 

"Is there something wrong with him?" Kadota matches Shizuo stride-for-stride as they make their way to the elevator, sparing one last glance at Izaya's apartment before the elevator closes and they're on their way down to the ground floor. "He seems... different." 

"You know that saying, 'be careful what you wish for'?" 

"Yeah?" 

"It's like that." 

"What do you mean?" There's a ding, the elevator doors reopening to let them exit into the empty lobby. Once they're outside the building, Shizuo lights up a cigarette and takes a deep, long inhale, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it all out in a heavy exhale. After the nicotine's kicked in, he's ready to answer Kadota's question. 

"I wanted to break him." He starts. "I even thought he deserved it, you know? I thought he was just some shitty, fucked up asshole that needed to be taught a lesson, and who better to do that than the "monster" he hates so goddamn much, right?" He takes another drag, sighing out the smoke as he gazes up at the clear blue sky. "But he was already broken. All I did was make him worse." 

"Are things really that bad?" Kadota asks, frowning. Izaya definitely hadn't looked his best, but he also definitely could have looked worse. 

"You saw him, didn't you? He's a fucking mess, and today's a good day. If you had seen him yesterday..." He thinks back to how fragile Izaya had seemed when he'd held him in his arms, thin and pale and not at all like the person Shizuo'd spent so long believing he was. 

"How bad was he yesterday?" 

"Bad enough that he was scaring the shit out of me." 

Kadota tries to imagine a scared Shizuo, but the concept is so foreign to him that all it does is make him uneasy. "Geez..." 

"Yeah." 

Neither of them speak again for several minutes, Shizuo too busy smoking and Kadota too busy trying to process everything he's been told. After a while, he sighs and take out his phone so he can text Togusa to let him know he's ready to get picked up. "I'm gonna walk to the convenience store to get something to drink before my ride gets here. Do you wanna come with me?" He asks, checking his pockets to make sure he has enough change. 

"Thanks, but I should probably be getting back to Izaya. I don't like leaving him alone for too long." 

"Fair enough. You have my number, right?" 

"I think so." 

"Well, if you don't, I'm almost 100% certain that Izaya does. Call me if anything comes up." 

"Can do. Talk to you later." 

"Yep. Good luck, Shizuo." 

"Thanks." 

Kadota starts heading in the direction of the corner market, and Shizuo heads back into the building so he can return to Izaya's apartment. When he enters, he finds Izaya watching his documentary again. Settling down next to him, Shizuo stretches his arm out across the back of the couch and once more attempts to focus on the video currently playing on Izaya's too-big television; but even with the subtitles on it might as well be impossible, so he ends up giving up and shifting so he can lay down while resting his head in the other man's lap. Izaya either doesn't notice or doesn't care, simply continuing to silently keep his attention on the screen in front of him. They stay like that until the credits roll, both of them too emotionally exhausted to do anything but accept the other's presence. 


	27. Surrender

By the time Izaya's documentary has ended, the sun is starting to go down and Shizuo is craving another cigarette. He gets up and starts to walk over to the front door, about to open it when Izaya asks him where he's going.

"To go have a smoke." 

"Why not just smoke in the laundry room, then?" 

For a second the suggestion doesn't make sense, and then he remembers the hole. "Oh, yeah. Right." He heads up the stairs, taking his pack out of his pocket so he can ready a cigarette. Lighting it, he leans over the railing of the fire escape and takes a deep drag as he lets the cool evening breeze ruffle his bleached hair. After a minute or two, Izaya comes out and joins him in staring up at the dusk sky. 

"I don't know what to do anymore." He informs him after several seconds of silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

"Join the club." Shizuo responds, having another hit off his cigarette before wordlessly offering it to the other man. Izaya takes it, scrutinizing it for a couple of moments before bringing it to his lips and inhaling cautiously. He's not sure if it's because it's a different brand or if he's grown out of his distaste, but the nicotine doesn't seem half as bad as he remembers it tasting in high school. 

_It's probably because it tastes like him..._

"You're a horrible influence." He grumbles, giving Shizuo back his cigarette. 

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment." 

Izaya snorts. "Thanks, Shizu-chan." 

"Don't mention it." 

"Don't worry, I won't~." He winks, causing Shizuo to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to the sunset. The sky is calm at the moment, but his gut feeling tells him that the storm isn't gone for good. 

"This can't stay a secret forever, you know." He says, offering Izaya the cigarette again. 

"Not with that attitude, it can't." Izaya responds, accepting it and taking a longer, more deliberate drag. He stifles a cough and holds it back out to Shizuo, who takes it with a frown. 

"I'm serious, Izaya. People are gonna figure shit out eventually." 

"Not necessarily. Humans are very good at denying the things they don't want to accept." 

"Yeah, but the longer they stay in denial, the worse things are gonna be for 'em in the long run." 

"That's a risk many people are perfectly willing to take." 

"Well it ain't a risk _I'm_ willing to take, and it ain't one _you_ should take, either. Pretending like everything's hunky-fucking-dory isn't gonna make it so it is, it's just gonna make it hurt more when everything comes crashing down around you." He offers Izaya the cigarette once again. Sighing, he takes it and breathes in more of the nicotine. 

_It's definitely because it tastes like him._

Handing it back, he closes his eyes and exhales slowly. As much as he hates to admit it, the damn brute is right; the longer he puts off dealing with the situation, the more likely it'll come back around to bite him in the ass. The problem, however, is that he doesn't have the slightest clue _how_ to deal with the situation. He does, however, know that he doesn't want to do it sober. "Hey, Shizu-chan... I don't suppose you'd be willing to do me a favor?" 

"Depends on what it is. What do you want?" 

"There's a convenience store a couple blocks up the street. If I give you a few thousand yen, would you perhaps be a dear and go pick some things up for me?" 

"You gonna be here when I get back?" 

"Why wouldn't I?" 

"I don't fucking know, that's why I asked." 

"Yes, I'll be here." 

"You swear?" 

"Yes, Shizu-chan, I swear." 

"I'm gonna hold you to that, you know." Shizuo tells him, finishing off the cigarette before flicking it over the railing. "If I come back and you aren't here, you better damn well believe that I'm gonna hunt your ass down and make you regret it." 

"Is that a threat, or a promise?" Izaya asks, smiling "innocently" up at him. 

"Guess you'll have to wait and find out, huh?" 

"Guess I will." 

Grinning, Shizuo leans down until their faces are less than an inch apart. "Then I guess we have a deal, don't we?" 

"Guess we do~." 

"Good." Shizuo straightens up, ignoring the strong urge he has to close the distance and claim Izaya's lips in a kiss. "I'll go get your shit. What is it you want?" 

"Hold on, I'll write you a list." Izaya disappears back downstairs. When he returns, he deposits a 5,000 yen note and a folded piece of binder paper into Shizuo's hand. "Don't keep me waiting too long." 

"I'll keep you waiting as long as I fucking want." Shizuo retorts, checking to make sure he has everything else he needs before pocketing the money and the list. "Be back soon." 

Izaya doesn't bother to point out the contradiction, instead choosing to just watch until Shizuo's out of sight before making his way back down to the living room. Grabbing the remote, he flops down on the couch and turns on the T.V, spending several minutes searching the guide for something halfway decent before giving up and turning the television back off. Rolling onto his back, he stares up at the ceiling. The convenience store is at least a ten minute walk; even if Shizuo only spends five minutes in the store itself, it's still going to be about fifteen minutes before he actually starts heading back in the direction of the apartment. 

_Now what?_

He doesn't like how he's already become so used to Shizuo's presence. Without him, his apartment seems uncomfortably empty; Izaya's never really noticed just how large it is, the quiet drawing attention to the way even the tiniest sound echoes as it bounces off the walls. It doesn't take long for the silence to become too much for him to handle; frowning, he turns back on the T.V, flicking through the channels until he finds something that can work as background noise. Keeping the volume low, he tosses the remote aside and resumes staring up at the ceiling. 

_I hate this._

He sighs and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to clear his head. He doesn't notice when he starts to drift, his subconscious taking over the moment it has the chance... 

_He's standing at the tip-top of a skyscraper made of ivory and gold, the glowing sunset the same color red as the heavy velvet cloak he's clutching tightly around his bare body. There's no way down that he can see, no stairs or elevator or ladder or even a rope that he can use to scale the walls and get himself to safety; he makes the mistake of looking over the edge, the vertigo making him so dizzy that he almost loses his balance. The long, needle-like spire is the only thing keeping him from falling to his death, his grip on it so strong that his knuckles have turned white. He doesn't want to fall. He doesn't want to **die.** _

_There's a blood-chilling crack, panic setting in as he realizes that the spire is beginning to break under his hold. He glances around, desperately searching for something else to grab on to... but he can't find anything before the spire gives way completely. He screams as he starts to plummet towards the earth -- but there's no hard, painful impact like he's expecting. Instead there's a loud splash, and he finds himself surrounded by a cold, wet, suffocating darkness. It takes him a second to realize he's drowning, water rushing in through his mouth and nostrils as he sinks down into the inky black depths; he knows he's not going to survive if he doesn't do something soon, but he doesn't know how to swim and his cloak has absorbed so much water that the weight is dragging him down faster than he can think. He needs to get rid of it, but getting rid of it means being naked and being naked means being vulnerable and he hates, hates, **hates** being vulnerable... but it's the only option he has, so he undoes the clasp and lets it drop from his shoulders. Even without it, he's struggling just to keep from sinking further; he's tired, so very tired, and it would be so, so, **so** very easy to just give up and let the darkness overtake him..._

And then he's being shaken awake, gasping for air as his eyes snap open to find a slightly-panicked Shizuo staring down at him. If someone had told him a week ago that he'd be this happy to see the man he's spent so long trying to get rid of, he'd have laughed in their face... but he's too relieved to do anything other than fling his arms around Shizuo and bury his face in his chest, trying desperately to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

Shizuo is pretty sure he knows what's going on, having returned just in time to see Izaya thrashing around on the couch. The only reason he can think of to explain it is that he'd been having a nightmare, which would also explain why he'd been stubbornly refusing to go back to sleep last night; still trembling from the unexpected adrenaline rush, he wraps his arms around the smaller man and holds him close. 

_Jesus fucking CHRIST, flea..._

He doesn't let go until Izaya does, getting back up to retrieve the bag of stuff from where he'd dropped it on the floor. Taking out the carton of milk he'd bought for himself, he hands the rest to Izaya. 

"Thanks." Izaya says, pulling out a (luckily unbroken) glass bottle of imported Russian vodka. "Can you bring me an empty cup? One of the plastic ones, please... I don't trust you with the glasses or ceramics yet." 

_You trusted me to go get your goddamn vodka..._ Shizuo thinks, keeping said thought to himself as he grabs a plastic cup from the cupboard. He tosses it at Izaya, who manages to catch it despite its above-average velocity. 

"Thank you, Shizu-chan~." Izaya all but purrs, smirking when he sees the way the other man's eyebrow twitches. He fills the cup up 1/3 of the way with vodka, then takes out a bottle of sparkling apple juice and uses that to fill the rest of it. "Cheers!" He takes a drink, pleased with how well the juice hides the taste of the alcohol. Compared to the harshness of the mezcal, this is practically ambrosia. 

"Is it good?" 

Izaya nods, offering it to him. Curious, he accepts. "Holy shit." 

"I know, right?" 

He drinks a little more of it, then hands the cup back reluctantly. "Way better than that mezuka crap." 

"That 'mezuka crap' also happened to be several times stronger and not mixed with anything." He reminds him, taking another drink. 

"Yeah, I guess that's fair." He plops down on the couch, stretching his arm along the back. "So how much of that you gonna need before you're willing to actually talk to me, huh?" 

"I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" 

"You know what I mean, flea." 

"Do I?" He gulps down more of his drink, pretending like he doesn't see the irked look on the other's face. 

"Yeah, you do. You got your fucking sushi. You have your booze. I'm here, you're here, and there ain't no one around to distract us -- so how about you and I sort our shit out like the grown-ass men we are instead of the stupid-ass fucking teenagers we keep acting like, alright?" 

"..." 

_"Alright?"_

Izaya downs the rest of his drink, then pours himself another. It's the closest thing to an agreement that he's willing to give, but it's enough for Shizuo. 

"Good." Picking the vodka bottle up from where it's been placed on the ground, Shizuo opens it and takes a few swallows before setting it back down and wiping off his lips. "Look, Izaya... our relationship? It's pretty damn obvious that it ain't the same anymore. Like it or not, we're in this together. We might as well get used to it." 

"That's a lot easier said than done." 

"Don't I know it." Shizuo says, sighing and taking another swallow from the bottle. 

"You don't plan on staying here forever, do you? Because my landlord doesn't allow pets." 

"Haha, very fucking funny." 

"Aren't I?" 

He rolls his eyes and takes another drink. "Yep. You're a real fucking riot, alright. And no, I don't plan on staying here forever. As much as I love you, you make it hard for me not to want to use your face as a goddamn hammer." 

"I really, really, really wish you'd stop saying that." 

"What, 'I love you'?" 

_"Yes."_

"Well, in that case you better suck it the fuck up, buttercup, 'cause I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. Wanna know why?" 

"No." 

"It's 'cause..." He puts his arm around Izaya's shoulders and draws him close, leaning in to whisper into his ear. _"I love you."_ He gives him a peck on the cheek and loosens his grip, expecting Izaya to move away once he's given the chance. When he doesn't, choosing to let out a heavy breath and slump against him instead, Shizuo can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he's actually starting to get through to him.


	28. Testing Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter. This chapter. It's uh... well, it's something...

Izaya has never been particularly used to physical affection. It makes him uncomfortable, for reasons even he doesn't completely understand; he remembers one time back in middle school, when he'd only just met Shinra and the other boy had hounded him to join his biology club. When he'd finally agreed, Shinra had hugged him in excitement -- the contact had taken him by surprise, enough that he'd pushed Shinra away pretty much by reflex. That's why he doesn't understand why Shizuo feels so _safe,_ his arm around him more reassuring than it is alarming.

"Something wrong?" 

Izaya tilts his head up to meet Shizuo's gaze. The concerned look on his face makes him seem far more human than he does monster; it gives him butterflies, reminding him of just how much of his life he's wasted clinging to a lie he'd been too deep in denial not to believe. "No, Shizu-chan. Nothing's wrong." He responds, smiling bitterly. 

Shizuo might not be the smartest man in the world, but even he can tell that that's absolute bullshit. "Wanna try again? The lying thing is starting to get old." Not having the energy or motivation to try and argue, Izaya chooses to stay silent instead. Frowning, Shizuo shifts so he can get a better look at his face. There's something off about his expression; it's not an angry or sad expression, but it's not a happy or content expression either. If anything, it's neutral... too neutral, Shizuo thinks, for someone as dramatic as Izaya. He doesn't like it. It doesn't feel right. "Look, I can tell something's going on... would you please just tell me what it is?" 

Izaya still doesn't answer, and frustration starts to mix in with Shizuo's concern. Realizing that giving in to it probably isn't going to help matters, he closes his eyes and counts to ten before taking a deep breath and a swallow from the now half-empty bottle of vodka. Izaya mirrors him by drinking from his cup of alcohol and apple juice, the tension between the two men growing more and more awkward with each passing second; neither of them speak for several minutes, until Shizuo loses his will to be patient and decides he'd better go have another cigarette before he snaps and does something he'll regret. When he eventually returns, the only thing that's changed is that Izaya's cup has been refilled. Sighing, he runs his fingers through his hair and sits back down on the couch next to him. "I'm sorry." He says, causing Izaya to blink and look at him with a confused expression on his face. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry." 

Speechless, Izaya simply stares at him. He's not even sure he heard him correctly, the idea of his long-time enemy swallowing his pride enough to apologize not exactly one he's used to entertaining. "Why?" 

Shizuo sighs again, picking the bottle of vodka up from the floor so he can take another swig of it. Setting it down, he wipes off his mouth and leans back so he can rest his head against the back of the couch. "I'm afraid." He admits, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Of _what?_ Cars can't kill you, knives can't kill you, bullets can't kill you -- what could _you_ possibly have to be afraid of?" 

"Being alone." 

Izaya's frown deepens, and he takes another drink from his cup. He wishes he could say he still doesn't understand -- but he does. He understands all too well. "I see." 

"Yeah." There's a pause as Shizuo tries to figure out how to word his thoughts. "I've never been very good at this talking thing." 

"Oh, I am _perfectly_ aware of that." Izaya remarks, sipping at his booze. 

_I think I added too much alcohol this time... oh, well!_

"Hey, at least I'm fucking trying!" 

"And doing a surprisingly good job at it, too!" 

"Woah woah woah, hold up... was that a fucking compliment? Did you just compliment me?" 

"I read somewhere that praise makes animals easier to house-train. Is it working?" Izaya smiles up at Shizuo "sweetly," earning himself a flick on the forehead hard enough to cause his head to hit the back of the couch. "Ouch!" He glares, rubbing it. "That _hurt."_

"It's what you get for being a brat. Besides, it's not like I flicked you _that_ hard." 

"'It's not like I flicked you _that_ hard.'" Izaya repeats mockingly, sticking out his tongue -- unfortunately for him, he doesn't retract it in time to stop Shizuo from catching it between his fingers. "Ey! Leggo!" He manages to say, but Shizuo just ignores him and uses his tongue to pull him closer. "Nnn..." He can feel the drool slowly starting to drip down his chin; he hates that he's starting to get turned on, Shizuo's pinch just tight enough to make him nervous. 

"How 'bout I make you a deal, _Izaaaaayaaa-kuuun?"_ He drawls, leaning in close to the shorter man. "If you promise to play nice, I'll let you go. How does that sound?" 

Izaya answers by biting his fingers hard enough to actually break through Shizuo's tough skin... but the larger man doesn't even flinch. 

"So you wanna be difficult, huh?" Grinning toothily, he leans in even closer so he can whisper seductively into Izaya's ear. "I'm not gonna have to spank you again, am I?" 

The warning sends shudders up Izaya's spine, causing his cock to twitch slightly. "Hnn..." 

"Was that a yes?" He pinches Izaya's tongue just a tiny bit tighter, using it to nod his head. "Or a no?" He finishes, shaking it from side to side. 

Izaya, of course, has no desire to submit to the beast. By this point, he's tipsy enough that he's willing to push his limits... so instead of aquiescing, he nods. 

"Yeah?" Shizuo's suddenly very, _very_ excited, his grin widening as intense arousal begins to mix in with his aggravation. "You sure about that?" 

His heart pounding, Izaya nods once more. Shizuo immediately lets go of his tongue and grabs him by the hair, bending him over his lap and shoving his face down into the couch cushion. "I'll give you one last chance to change your mind, flea. If you don't, I'm just gonna assume I can do whatever I want, so..." He yanks down the smaller man's pants and gently rubs the soft, supple flesh of his ass. "You gonna play nice?" 

"I'll never play nice with a monster like--" 

_***SMACK!***_

Izaya yelps, his already-tender ass stinging from the impact. He doesn't even have time to catch his breath before Shizuo smacks him again. "Fuck!" 

And again. 

_"Fuck!"_

And again. 

_"FUCK!"_

And then Shizuo spanks him one last time, hard enough to cause him to choke out a sob as his erection starts to leak. 

"How 'bout now?" 

"I will never... hah... play nice with a... hah... monster like you..." 

"I was hoping you'd say that." Shizuo snarls, yanking him up just long enough to get his own pants out of the way before pushing him back down... only this time, it's not the cushion Izaya finds in his face. 

_Oh, fuck..._

He swallows hard, starting to regret running his mouth; but he's both too stubborn and too turned on to tell the stronger man to stop. 

_I really am a fucking masochist, aren't I?_

Shizuo's cock stretches his jaw painfully and makes it difficult for him to breathe; the deeper down his throat it goes, the harder it is to keep from gagging on it. Tears are starting to well up in his eyes -- they only add to his humiliation, but that just makes him even hornier than he already was. He starts to reach down between his legs... 

"Did I say you could do that?" Shizuo snarls, seizing his wrist. "Because I don't think I did." 

Unable to speak with his mouth so full, Izaya settles for simply scowling up at him. What he gets in return is a smirk and another smack on the ass. _"Mmph!"_

"You know... you're really fucking _cute_ when you're angry." Shizuo leers, squeezing one of his bruised cheeks before massaging it almost soothingly. "It makes me wanna do real bad things to you..." He teases his entrance with his finger, causing the smaller man to shudder and arch his back. "Real, real bad things..." He slides in his finger, curling it so he can stimulate his sweet spot. Izaya whimpers, every brush against his prostate bringing him closer and closer to orgasm. 

_I can't take much more of this..._

Sensing that Izaya's about to reach his limit, Shizuo decides he's had enough fun tormenting him. He pulls him back up by the arm, claiming his swollen lips in a messy, passionate kiss before bending him back over and knocking his legs apart with his knees; slowly pressing into him until he's as deep as he can possibly be, he leans forward so he can wrap his hand around his cock and pump it to the rhythm of his frenzied thrusts. Izaya comes pretty much instantly, groaning loudly as the waves of pleasure wash over him. 

Shizuo doesn't last very much longer; he takes a second to catch his breath before unsheathing himself and collapsing back against the arm of the couch, dragging Izaya down with him so he can hold him close and bury his face in his hair. For a while neither of them move, both too satisfied and exhausted to even want to... but eventually they both have to, Izaya needing to pee and Shizuo needing another cigarette. They meet back up in the laundry room a little while later, Izaya setting his drink down on the washing machine so he can attempt to hop up onto the dryer. After a few failed attempts, he turns to Shizuo and holds his arms out demandingly. 

"You really are too fucking cute." He hoists him up easily, waiting for him to get comfortable so he can give him his drink. 

"Shut up." Izaya grumbles and takes a couple swallows from his cup, unable to hide his embarrassment. 

"Okay, okay." Shizuo chuckles, taking a hit off his cigarette before offering it to the smaller man. 

Izaya takes it, inhaling the nicotine and holding it for a moment before blowing it out of the hole in the destroyed wall. "What now?" He asks, gazing up at the star-filled sky. "What do we do now?" 

"Well, I'm fucking starving, so I was thinking of going and getting Taco Bell again... I never actually got to eat any of it the other night." 

"I meant in general." 

"Oh. All we can do, I guess." 

"Which is?" 

"Take it one day at a time." He plucks his cigarette out of Izaya's fingers and sucks up the remaining nicotine, throwing the butt outside before offering him his hand and helping him off the dryer. "You hungry?" 

As if on cue, Izaya's stomach rumbles. 

"I'll take that as a yes." Shizuo grins. "What do you want?" 

"Not Taco Bell, that's for certain." Izaya responds, wrinkling his nose. 

"Then what _do_ you want?" 

"Ai frutte di mare." 

Shizuo rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll get you your goddamn 'ai furu whatever-the-fuck.' Anything else?" 

"Not that I can think of." He says as they make their way down to the living room. "Do you still have the list I gave you earlier?" 

"Yeah, hold on." He digs through his pockets until he finds the crumpled up piece of paper. "Here." 

Izaya scribbles down his order and the address, taking another 5,000 yen note out of his wallet before giving them both to the other man. "Hurry back, Shizu-chan~!" 

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He pockets the money and list and starts to leave... and then he turns back around, grabbing Izaya by the collar of his sweatshirt so he can pull him in for a goodbye kiss. "See you soon." He says, releasing him and smirking at the flustered look on the other man's face as he heads out the front door. 

\------------- 

_Chat room, later that night..._

**\--TANAKA TAROU HAS ENTERED THE CHAT--**

【Hello?】 

【Anyone here?】 

[I am.] 

【Oh, hi Setton! How are you?】 

[I'm alright, I just got home from work. What about you?] 

【I'm okay... had an exam today...】 

[Oh no! Did you do okay?] 

【I think I did? But the results won't be posted until tomorrow.】 

[I hope you get good news!] 

【Thanks, that means a lot!】 

【Oh, hey...】 

【Before I forget.】 

【Have you spoken to Kanra at all lately?】 

[No, why?] 

【I wanted to ask her a question, but I haven't been able to get ahold of her.】 

[Now that you mention it, it has been pretty quiet around here...] 

【It's not like Kanra to be unavailable...】 

【I wonder if something happened?】 

[Like what?] 

【I don't know, but it would probably have to be something pretty big.】 

【She isn't the type to just disappear for no reason.】 

[...] 

【What is it?】 

[Nothing... I just had a thought.] 

【A thought?】 

【What kind of thought?】 

< Private Mode > [Can I ask you a question?] 

< Private Mode > 【Of course, go ahead!】 

< Private Mode > [Do you know who Kanra is?] 

< Private Mode > 【Oh.】 

< Private Mode > 【Um...】 

< Private Mode > [You do, don't you?] 

< Private Mode > [Can you tell me?] 

< Private Mode > 【I'm not sure that's a good idea...】 

< Private Mode > [Why?] 

< Private Mode > [What if I guess? Will you tell me if I'm right?] 

< Private Mode > 【Um...】 

< Private Mode > [I promise I don't have any bad intentions or anything like that! I just want to know if my suspicions are true or not.] 

< Private Mode > 【...】 

< Private Mode > [Please?] 

< Private Mode > 【Okay... 】 

< Private Mode > [Okay?] 

< Private Mode > 【I'll tell you if you're right or not.】 

< Private Mode > [Oh!] 

< Private Mode > [In that case...] 

< Private Mode > [Is it Izaya?] 

< Private Mode > 【...】 

< Private Mode > 【Setton...】 

< Private Mode > 【How do you know Izaya-san?】 

**\--SETTON HAS LEFT THE CHAT--**

【Huh?】 

【Was it something I said?】 

【Setton?】 

【I guess she left...】 

【Oh, well. I should probably get to sleep anyway.】 

【Night!】 

**\--TANAKO TAROU HAS LEFT THE CHAT--**

**\--THE CHATROOM IS CURRENTLY EMPTY--**

**\--THE CHATROOM IS CURRENTLY EMPTY--**

**\--THE CHATROOM IS CURRENTLY EMPTY--**


	29. Wake-Up Call

_I knew that goddamn storm wasn't gone for good._

The wind has picked up considerably since leaving Izaya's apartment, and by the time Shizuo reaches the Italian place, it's already started to sprinkle. He'd placed the order for the Ai Frutte di Mare and ran over to Taco Bell to pick up his own dinner while he waited, rushing to get everything done before the rain got too bad... but despite his best efforts, he still finds himself completely drenched before he can make it back. 

_I really hope the food's still okay..._

His stomach growling at the thought of finally eating, he takes the elevator up to the ninth floor and opens the door to Izaya's home. He enters to find the living room empty, the other man nowhere in sight. Sighing, he lets the bags drop to the floor and heads into the guest bathroom so he can strip out of his wet clothes and dry himself off with one of Izaya's fluffy white towels. Wrapping one of them around his waist, he wanders upstairs to see if he can locate the brunette; he finds him in the master bathroom, soaking in a tub filled so ridiculously high with bubbles that only his head is poking out about the surface. 

"Welcome back, Shizu-chan," He says, tilting his face up towards him. "Did you have a nice walk?" 

"It's fucking raining." He grumps, but it's hard to stay annoyed when Izaya looks so goddamn adorable. 

"I _thought_ I smelled a wet dog... here, get in." He shifts so Shizuo has room to sit. 

"Can I eat first? I'm fucking starving." 

"You can eat in the tub." 

"Works for me, I guess. Be right back." He disappears, reappearing less than a minute later with a black plastic bag in one hand and a Taco Bell bag in the other. Izaya watches as he sets them down and unwraps the towel, letting it fall to the floor. He doesn't realize how intently he's staring until Shizuo clears his throat, a knowing smirk on his face. "See something you like, flea?" 

His face would have turned red, had it not already been flushed from the heat and alcohol. He immediately looks away, turning his attention to the bags Shizuo had set down. He grabs the dark black plastic one up off of the floor, pulling out a pizza-shaped to-go box and salivating when he opens it and is met with the delicious smells of garlic, shrimp, and tomato sauce. "Hello, beautiful..." He all but purrs, wiping his hands off on the closest towel so he can take out a piece and start to devour it. 

Shizuo raises an eyebrow, but he keeps his comment to himself. He steps into the tub, getting himself settled before retrieving a taco from the other bag. There's a few minutes of silence as the two of them eat, both too hungry and tired to do anything other than enjoy their meals. Shizuo finishes eating first, tossing his trash into the waste basket so he can lean back and sink further into relaxation. It's strange, he thinks, how comfortable he's gotten with Izaya; before, he couldn't even stand to look at him -- and now? Now he can't stand to be _apart_ from him. 

Izaya gets about a quarter of the way through his pizza before he's too full to eat any more of it, so he sets the box on the toilet seat and reaches over to where he'd sat his drink on the sink. Taking a few thirsty swallows, he offers the rest to Shizuo and climbs out of the tub, using the towel he'd wiped his hands on to dry himself off. He doesn't bother to wait for Shizuo, heading into his bedroom so he can grab his spare bathrobe from the hook on the inside of his closet door and put it on, making his way into the laundry room to dig through the dryer for a pair of pajamas. When he finds some, he puts them on and heads back into the bedroom, tossing the robe at a naked Shizuo. "You're welcome." He tells him, then turns to head down into the kitchen. 

Shizuo follows, pulling on the robe and tying it shut. "What time is it?" He asks, yawning. 

"No idea! But if I had to guess, I'd say it's probably around nine or ten. Why? Is Shizu-chan getting sleepy?" 

"Yeah, actually. Dealing with your ass is fucking exhausting." 

"How rude!" Izaya responds, putting the leftover pizza in the fridge. "Shizu-chan really needs to learn some manners." Stifling a yawn of his own, he makes his way back up to the second floor so he can grab some clean sheets out of the linen closet. He's not exactly overflowing with energy himself... he's actually a little surprised he hadn't fallen asleep in the tub, especially considering how nice and warm it had been. The worst part, he thinks, is that he's almost disappointed he didn't. He blames it on the alcohol. It _is_ a depressant, after all. 

_I wonder what kind of look Shizu-chan would have on his face if he came back to find that I'd drowned?_

Eventually he finishes making the bed and flops down onto it, stretching out so he's taking up the entire thing. His head is starting to spin... it suddenly occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, combining alcohol and a hot bath hadn't been a very good idea. He's beginning to feel nauseous. 

"Oi." He glances up to find Shizuo standing over him with a cup of water in his hand and a concerned look on his face. He pushes himself into a sitting position, taking the cup when Shizuo offers it to him. It isn't until he starts to drink it that he realizes how dehydrated he is, gulping down the cool water like it's ambrosia. 

"Thank you." He says, handing back the empty cup before laying down again. 

Shizuo sets the cup on the dresser next to Izaya's bed, nudging him. "Scootch, flea." 

"I don't remember saying you could sleep in here." 

"I don't remember asking for permission." 

"Fine... but if your snoring keeps me from falling asleep, I'm going to shove a sock in your mouth." Izaya warns, turning over onto his side. Shizuo rolls his eyes, undoing the bathrobe and shrugging it off before climbing into bed and wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist, pulling him close. He buries his face in Izaya's soft, dark hair, breathing in his scent. "You smell good." He murmurs, his breath tickling the back of the other's neck. 

"I thought I stunk?" Izaya asks, goosebumps spreading over his flesh. 

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind." He nuzzles him, chuckling softly when Izaya squirms. 

"That tickles." Izaya grumbles, his cheeks a light shade of pink. 

"Oh yeah?" He nuzzles him again, grinning when he squirms a little bit more.

_"Shizu-chan."_ Izaya whines in annoyance, causing Shizuo to grin and nuzzle him one last time before kissing him on the nape and snuggling against him. It doesn't take long for the comforting warmth of each other's bodies to lull them both to sleep. 

_The next morning..._

**_*BANG BANG BANG*_**

The loud noise startles Izaya awake, his eyes flying open and his heart pounding as he tries to gather his bearings. Shizuo is still sound asleep next to him; he attempts to wiggle out of his hold, but the other man simply grumbles something and pulls him closer. There's another impatient bang, this time loud enough to cause Shizuo to groggily open his eyes. "What is it?" He asks, yawning and loosening his hold. "Is someone knocking?" 

"Yes, so please do me a favor and _shut up."_ Izaya hisses, jumping out of bed and running over to the door so he can try and listen for a clue as to who it is. He hears what sounds like a woman muttering to herself on the other side; while he can't make out the words themselves, the annoyed tone in her voice is familiar enough for him to immediately recognize it as Namie's. 

_"Shit."_

"Who is--" 

_"Bathroom. Now."_

Shizuo raises his eyebrows at the snapped demand, but he figures it's probably better to just comply than to try and argue with the brunette. He wordlessly turns and heads into the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so he can listen. The moment the blonde is out of sight, Izaya forces a smile on his face and opens the door to greet his secretary. "Namie! To what do I--" 

"Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to get a hold of you?" She cuts him off, her hands on her hips. "Well? Do you?" 

"No. Why don't you tell me?" He responds, moving out of the room and shutting the door behind him. 

"Two days. Two days that were supposed to be my days off, mind you, but _someone_ isn't answering their phone, so guess who's had to deal with all the clients?" 

"I'm going to assume that's a rhetorical question." 

"Do you enjoy making life difficult for me?" 

"Yes, Namie. There is nothing I enjoy more." 

"I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm. Are you aware there's a giant hole in the laundry room?" 

"Is there? I hadn't noticed." 

"And when exactly were you planning to respond to your voicemails? You know your inbox is full, right?" 

"I'll get around to it eventually. Is there anything else you need? Because if not, I'd really like to get back to sleep." 

"It's already noon!" 

"Yes, but I feel absolutely _awful._ I think I'm coming down with something... I doubt it's contagious, but why don't you take a few more days off just to be safe? I'd hate to get you sick." 

She raises an eyebrow, her lips pursed. He can't tell if she buys it or not (he sometimes forgets how perceptive she can be), but if she doesn't, she doesn't care enough to push it. "Fine, but I expect to still be paid regardless." 

"Of course." 

She turns to leave, pausing for a moment to glance back at him. "Oh, and one more thing..." 

"What?" He doesn't like the look on her face... it's almost smug, like she knows something he doesn't. 

"You might want to get your clothes out of the downstairs bathroom. Just a thought." And with that, she's gone, leaving a very confused Izaya to try and figure out what exactly she'd meant by that.


	30. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

_'You might want to get your clothes out of the downstairs bathroom. Just a thought.'_

Izaya hurries down the stairs and into the guest bathroom, his focus immediately zeroing in on a pile of damp clothing; his stomach drops, Shizuo's bartender outfit as easily recognizable as the beast himself is. 

_Shit._

She knows. She has to; there's no other explanation for the smug look she'd had on her face, and only an idiot or a tourist could see a bartender uniform and not automatically associate it with the notorious Shizuo Heiwajima -- _especially_ not when said uniform is found on the bathroom floor of the man he's supposed to _hate_ with every fiber of his being. 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

The only reason Namie's put up with him as long as she has is because he's one of the few people both willing _and_ able to help someone who's gone into hiding. If it hadn't been for him, she'd most likely have ended up in prison (or worse, depending on who got their hands on her), but much like everyone else he's ever helped, she sees him as more of a curse than a blessing. He's fairly certain the only thing keeping her from poisoning his food is the hefty sum she gets for being his secretary; if she decides she wants to use her newfound knowledge for blackmail purposes, there's probably not a lot he could do to stop her. 

_On the bright side, I've already fucked up my life so fucking badly that I doubt she'd be able to make it much worse._

Sighing, he bends down to pick up the pile of clothing, checking to make sure he hasn't missed a sock or anything like that before heading back up the stairs to his room. He'd _intended_ to just dump the pile on the bed and make some snarky comment about animals needing to be house-trained... but the moment he sees Shizuo's face, a bit of repressed rage flares up and he finds himself hurling it at him hard enough for it to hit his face with a loud _"SMACK!"_

"What the fu--!" 

"Are you a fucking _idiot?"_ Shizuo opens his mouth to argue, but Izaya cuts him off before he can say anything. "That was a rhetorical question, I don't actually want an answer. I don't need one, because I already know that you are, in fact, a fucking idiot." 

"What the hell is your fucking problem? I haven't even done anything!" 

"My 'fucking problem' is that you left your fucking _clothes_ in the guest bathroom." 

"So? Why the fuck does that mean I have to get yelled at, huh?" 

"The _guest_ bathroom, Shizu-chan! As in the bathroom that _guests_ use? As in the bathroom that people _other than me_ use? As in the bathroom--" 

"Okay, okay, I fucking get it! Could you calm the fuck down?" 

"'Calm the fuck down?' Calm the fuck _down?"_ Izaya'd laugh at the irony if he wasn't so frustrated. _"You're_ telling _me_ to 'calm the fuck down?' _You?"_

"Look, I get you're pissed off, but freaking out isn't gonna help _shit_ so yeah, I'm telling you to calm the fuck down!" 

"I am not 'freaking out', I am justifiably upset! I didn't want anyone else finding out about us!" 

"Yeah, well, shit happens. You've just gotta suck it the fuck up and deal with it." Shizuo rubs his temples, a headache starting to form. Grabbing Izaya's bathrobe from where he'd left it on the floor, he pulls it on and fishes his American Spirits out of his pants pocket. "Come on. I think we could both use a smoke." He holds his hand out to the other man -- sighing deeply, Izaya takes it and lets him lead him into the laundry room. Shizuo pulls a cigarette out of the pack, putting it to his lips just long enough to light it before holding it out to the brunette. "Here, you can have first drag." 

"Why?" Izaya asks, looking at him quizzically. 

"You need it more than I do. Now you gonna take it, or what?" 

There's a few seconds of silence as Izaya contemplates whether or not he actually _wants_ the first drag; he's always looked down on people who felt the need to smoke to deal with their issues, but he's also anxious enough that the promise of a nicotine-induced calm is incredibly tempting. 

_Fuck it._

He accepts Shizuo's cigarette, bringing it to his mouth and inhaling deeply; it tastes quite a bit better freshly lit, and even seems a little stronger, too. He exhales, relaxation spreading through his veins. "So this is how addictions start..." He mutters to himself, taking another deep inhale before handing it back. 

"Huh? What was that?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Sounded like you said something." 

"When are you leaving?" 

Shizuo blinks, taken aback by the sudden topic switch. "I don't know yet, hadn't thought about it. Why?" 

"I want to be alone." 

Shizuo frowns, still not completely comfortable with the idea of leaving Izaya to his own devices -- but he's already stayed longer than he should have, and he can't think of any real reason why he shouldn't give the other man some space. "Then I guess I better go, huh?" 

"Yes, please." There's something in Izaya's tone that nags at Shizuo, but he can't quite pinpoint what it is. 

"Alright. I'll get dressed after this cigarette." 

Neither of them speak for the few minutes it takes for them to finish smoking, Shizuo flicking the butt out over the railing before heading into Izaya's bedroom to get his clothes. He really, really, really doesn't want to leave; the thought of going back to sleeping alone on his cheap-ass futon isn't exactly an attractive one, and he's still shaken up from when he'd come back to the apartment to find Izaya in the middle of that nightmare. Sighing, he heads back down into the living room, checking to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything before turning to Izaya. "I'll try and stop by after work tomorrow. Might hit up Kadota to see if he knows anyone that can fix a wall. Are you gonna be okay on your own?" 

"Awww, is Shizu-chan worried about me~?" 

"Yeah, actually. So are you?" 

"Probably." 

"That's not very reassuring." 

"In a universe as vast and infinite as ours, nothing is absolute. In reality, 'probably' is the best anyone can do; I will _probably_ be okay, but I _possibly_ might not be. I can't know for certain. Nobody can. Now shall I show you to the door?" 

"How 'bout a goodbye kiss first?" 

"Seriously?" 

"Yep. I wanna goodbye kiss. Right here." He points at his lips. 

"Do I have to?" 

"Yep. Consider it my payment for leaving." 

"Ugh, fine." He has to stand on his tip-toes to reach, his eyes squeezing shut as he presses his lips against Shizuo's. He doesn't notice the arm snaking around his waist until he goes to pull away, finding himself trapped as Shizuo deepens the kiss, his tongue worming between his lips. "Nn..." 

Shizuo draws back, grinning down at a now-flushed Izaya. "See ya later, Izaaaayaaa-kuuun." He drawls, opening the front door. "Try not to miss me _too_ much." 

"Who says I'll miss you at all?" 

Instead of gracing him with an answer, Shizuo simply blows him a kiss and disappears out into the hall. Letting out a breath he didn't even notice he's been holding, Izaya makes sure the door is locked before wandering back into the living room and plopping down on the couch. 

_Now what?_

He's still both physically and emotionally exhausted, but it's a bit too early to go to bed, and he doesn't particularly want to bother with a nap. Grabbing the remote off of the side table, he turns on the T.V and flips through the channels, looking for something to watch. When he doesn't find anything, he switches to on-demand and checks the movie section to see if there's anything worth sitting through. It's not until he's browsing the American movies that one jumps out at him, the title alone enough to pique his interest. 

_"'Requiem for a Dream.'_ Fitting..." 

He puts it on, settling in for a long, lonely night.


	31. Desperate Times

_He's standing in the middle of a silent, empty city. Everything in it is the same shade of deep, oily black; the only reason he can tell it's a city at all is because of the the eerie red glow coming from the traffic lights sprouting out of the sidewalks, causing every shape and shadow to stretch and flicker ominously. Seeing nowhere to go but forward, he begins to hesitantly put one foot in front of the other, making his way down the street as quickly yet cautiously as possible. It seems like forever until he reaches an intersection, even more traffic lights flashing brightly in the darkness... he's still trying to decide which way to go when he hears what sounds like voices whispering behind him, sending chills up and down his spine. Fear spurring him into moving, he once more begins to walk, choosing to continue on straight ahead in the hopes that he'll be able to leave the voices behind him. For a moment, he thinks he's succeeded; but then he hears them again, louder and more insistant this time, and that's when he realizes they've been following him._

_He picks up the pace, his steps growing faster and faster until the panic sets in and he breaks out into a desperate run; all he can think about is getting as far away from those voices as he possibly can, too terrified to pay any attention to where he's going. When he finally collapses against an alley wall, too weak to go a single foot further, he holds his breath and listens closely for even the slightest hint of a whisper. He lets out a sigh of relief when all he hears is silence, his body relaxing as he tries to think of what to do next. The voices may have stopped, but that doesn't mean he's safe; if he can't run, he'll have to hide, and if he can't hide, he'll have to fight... and how do you fight something you can't even see?_

_Using the wall as support, he starts to feel his way down the alley in search of a decent place to hide. Other than a large dumpster at the very end, he doesn't end up finding much of anything; reminding himself that beggars can't be choosers, he pushes open the lid and climbs in -- and then the lid instantly slams shut again, hard enough that if he hadn't already had all of his limbs inside, he almost certainly would have lost one. He tries to force the dumpster back open, but it's almost as if it's been glued shut... eventually he gives up, letting his eyes close as he wills his heart to stop beating so frantically._

_It's then that he hears it, a sound he almost thinks is the voices again until it grows loud enough for him to recognize it as laughter. Suddenly, everything goes cold; everything except for something warm and wet and **alive** sliding around his waist, filling him with disgust when he goes to scream and another one shoves itself into his mouth. He struggles with all his might, but more and more of the slick, slimy **things** have begun to sprout from the garbage, some of them wrapping around his wrists and ankles while others begin to worm their way under his waistband. The laughter grows louder the more desperate he becomes, too tightly entangled to break free or defend himself..._

Izaya gasps, jerking awake hard enough to send himself tumbling off of the couch and onto the floor. He lays there for a minute as he works to catch his breath, his chest heaving from the effort; eventually he's able to pick himself up and make his way into the kitchen, immediately going over to the fridge so he can grab the vodka out of the freezer. There's not a whole lot left, but he doesn't want to be sober for even a _second_ longer... so he chugs it down and tosses the empty bottle into the trash, returning to the living room so he can flop back down onto the couch. 

Sighing, he stares up at the ceiling for what seems like the hundredth time. He feels lost, listless... like he needs to _do_ something but doesn't have the slightest idea what. Eventually he manages to drag himself off the couch and up the stairs, where he digs through his clothes until he finds an outfit that won't draw too much attention to himself. He's never really liked going anywhere without his favorite jacket (it was like a security blanket, in a way), but it's almost as recognizable as Shizuo's uniform and he doesn't have the strength or energy to deal with anyone who might see him and decide they want to pick a fight. Making sure he has his keys, his wallet, and his switchblade, he takes the elevator down to the lobby and heads out into the night in search of something to keep his mind occupied. 

He doesn't go very far. It's still somewhat difficult to walk, and he has no desire to end up stranded somewhere with no way home; he can't really think of any reason he'd _need_ to go very far, anyway... anything he might want to buy he'll be able to find at a convenience store, and he knows of at least two within stumbling distance. He starts wandering in the direction of the closest one, keeping the hood of his sweater up just in case. Despite his paranoia, he makes it there without incident. He doesn't stay very long, just enough to purchase an expensive bottle of imported vodka and a not-so-expensive prepaid phone for him to use while he continues to quite purposefully avoid looking for any of the ones he already has. There's a moment where he debates whether or not he wants to get a pack of cigarettes, too -- but he decides against it, the thought of actually asking for and buying his own making him a little uncomfortable. 

He takes his time on the way home, pausing every now and then to rest his legs. He wonders if he's ever going to stop being so sore, every step taking more and more out of him; when he finally makes it back to the apartment's lobby, he's breathing so hard that a concerned security guard offers his assistance. He politely declines, assuring the guard that he's fine and isn't likely to collapse before he can make it to his suite; he doesn't look particularly convinced, but he doesn't press the issue. Wishing him a good night, he turns his attention back to the security monitor, allowing a relieved Izaya to enter the elevator and push the button for his floor. 

_Almost there..._

The doors open to his level, but when he goes to get out he finds his path blocked by a familiar yet entirely unexpected face. "Mikado-kun?" 

_What is **he** doing here?_

"Ah, Orihara-san! Sorry, I know I should have called first but your phone kept going straight to voicemail and--" 

"It's a little late for a social visit, don't you think?" He asks, his pitch coming out slightly higher than intended. "Is there something I can help you with?" 

"Um, well... could I use your restroom?" 

Izaya answers by unlocking the door to his apartment and holding it open for him, directing the obviously embarrassed young man towards his guest bathroom before moving past it into the kitchen so he can pour himself a drink. 

_Just how long has he been waiting for me?_

He's just put the bottle in the freezer when Mikado comes back out, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Thanks... I didn't think I could hold it for much longer." 

"You know, if a bathroom was all you needed, you could have just used one of the ones in the lobby." He says, taking a sip. 

"Huh? Oh, no, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I wanted to ask you something." 

"If it's about anything that's happened within the past few days, I'm afraid I can't help you. I've been a little out of the loop." 

"That's actually what I wanted to ask you about. No one's seen you in chat lately, and you haven't been responding to texts or emails, so..." 

"So what?" 

"So I guess what I want to know is, um... well... did something happen?" 

"Would you believe me if I said no?" 

"Probably not..." 

"Then I suppose you already know the answer to that question, don't you?" Izaya asks, taking another sip. 

"That's not water, is it?" 

"That depends on who you ask." 

"Are you drunk, Orihara-san?" 

"No, but I'm working on it. Is there anything else you need?" 

"Why are you trying to get drunk?" 

"While normally I'd encourage your curiosity, I'm not really in the mood to play Twenty Questions. Besides, it's getting late... you don't want to get in trouble for being out past curfew, do you?" 

"No, but--" 

"Then it would be wise for you to be on your way, wouldn't it?" 

Getting the hint, Mikado walks over to the front door and pulls it open. "Good night, Orihara-san." 

"Good night, Mikado-kun." 

The moment he's out the door, Izaya downs the rest of his glass and heads into the living room. He's starting to regret not getting those cigarettes; he's craving one like crazy, but there's no way he'll be able to make it to the store and back now when he could barely make it back at all the first time. An idea strikes him -- it's a very un-Izaya-like idea, one he wouldn't even have considered a week ago -- but he's tired and stressed and drunk enough that he's willing to step out of his comfort zone if he thinks it will bring him even the _slightest_ bit of relief, so he flops back down on the couch and pulls out his new phone. He only has a few numbers memorized, but thankfully the one he needs happens to be one of them; he opens up a new message and thinks about what he wants to say, mulling it over for a good minute or so before finally typing it out and pressing Send. 

_'Good evening, Courier-san~! I was wondering if you might be willing to do me a couple favors?'_

It doesn't take long for him to get a reply. _'That depends... what are they?'_

_'Aren't you going to ask who this is?'_

_'I don't need to. What are the favors?'_

_'You're no fun. >: ( '_

_'...'_

_'Okay, okay, I'll be serious. The first favor is to purchase a pack of American Spirits and bring it to me posthaste.'_

_'.....'_

_'I'll reimburse you for the cigarettes, and I can pay you for your time, if necessary.'_

_'Okay, fine. What's the second favor?'_

_'The second favor is to lend me an ear. Figuratively, of course. ^__^'_

_'Ha ha ha. I'm about to go on a job, but I can come over after if you want.'_

_'I would greatly appreciate it.'_

_'Alright. It shouldn't take more than a couple hours. I'll let you know when I'm on the way.'_

_'Alright. Thank you.'_

Sighing, Izaya tosses his phone onto the cushion next to him. "Good thing I still have some of that instant coffee left..." He mumbles to himself. 

He's gonna need it.


	32. Heartbeats

By the time Celty texts him to let him know she's on her way, Izaya is about halfway through the bottle of vodka and has just finished his fourth cup of coffee. Part of him knows that he should probably stop drinking before he ends up with alcohol poisoning, but the part of him that's actually in control at the moment is far too wasted to care. He's in the middle of pouring vodka into his fifth cup of coffee when he hears the knock on his front door, setting the bottle down so he can go answer it. "Hello, Courier-san~!" He greets his guest, stepping aside so she can enter. "You have something for me?"

Noticing the half-empty vodka bottle on the counter, Celty hesitates before slipping the pack of American Spirits out of her sleeve and handing them over to him. She doesn't like the idea of being an enabler, but Izaya is an adult; it's not her place to decide what's good for him and what isn't, and trying to do so would probably end up backfiring horribly anyway. 

"Thank yooooooou~!" Izaya half-says, half-sings, immediately bouncing over to the stairs so he can take them two at a time up to the second floor. Celty can't help but feel slightly nervous as she follows after him, sticking a little closer than is probably necessary just in case she has to catch him before he can fall down the stairs and break his neck. When they reach the laundry room, Izaya hops up onto the dryer and unwraps the brand new pack, smacking each end against his palm a couple times before opening it and pulling out a cigarette. Shakily bringing it to his lips, he lights it and takes a deep, long drag; he relaxes almost instantly, the nicotine doing exactly what he'd hoped it would. "Ahhh, yes. That's much better." 

[Did something happen?] Celty asks. 

"You could say that." He responds, taking another drag. "Mikado-kun came to see me." 

[Mikado-kun?] 

"Mmhmm." 

[Why? What did he want?] 

"What people usually want from me: answers." 

[Answers to what?] 

Sighing, Izaya flicks the ash from his cigarette. "He wanted to know why I've been incommunicado lately. I didn't give him a straight answer, but he's a smart kid... it's only a matter of time until he puts two and two together." 

_Wait a second..._

She has a thought. 

[Can I ask you a question?] 

"Sure, shoot." 

[You're Kanra, right? On the chat?] 

"That's a distinct possibility." 

[And Tanako Tarou... that's Mikado, isn't it?] 

"That's also a distinct possibility. Why do you want to know?" 

[Because if so, I think I might be the reason why he came to see you...] 

"Why do you say that?" 

[We were chatting the other day and he brought up how he hadn't seen you online lately. He was wondering if something might have happened.] 

"And?" 

[And then I remembered how I always thought it was strange that Kanra always seemed to know so much about what was going on in the city, especially since the only other person I could think of with that kind of knowledge was you -- so I asked if he knew who you were, and he responded by asking me how I knew you.] 

"And what did you say?" 

[Nothing... I panicked and logged off.] 

"Why in the world would you do that?" 

[I was worried I'd said too much! Now I know I did...] 

"Maybe, maybe not. Mikado-kun may seem anxious and overly polite at times, but he's also incredibly curious... even if you hadn't said anything to him, there's still a good chance he would have shown up here eventually." 

[Do you think he'll try again?] 

"I wouldn't be surprised, he's as stubborn as he is curious. I just need to figure out what to say to him when he does." 

[Can I make a suggestion?] 

"I don't see why not." 

[Why don't you just tell him the truth?] 

Izaya lets out one of the most obnoxious snorts Celty has ever heard. _"Me?_ Tell the truth? That's absolutely _hilarious."_

[You're telling the truth right now, aren't you?] 

"Yes, but you're already aware of the situation. Mikado-kun _isn't,_ and I would prefer it to stay that way." He puts out his cigarette and places it on what little of the windowsill is left, setting the pack and his lighter down next to it. 

Celty regards him for a moment, letting him past her so she can follow him back down into the living room. [Do you want to know what I think?] 

"Sure, why not~!" He says almost sarcastically, going into the kitchen to finish making his drink before coming back to settle down on the couch. "What _do_ you think, Courier-san?" 

[I have a name, you know...] 

"Fine, fine. What _do_ you think, Celty-san?" 

[I think that ignoring your problems is just going to make them worse in the long run. You can't control whether or not people find out about you and Shizuo, but you CAN control HOW they find out. Does that make sense?] 

"Sense enough, at least. I think you're forgetting something important, though." 

[What?] 

"Izaya Orihara was, is, and will always be a gigantic fucking _coward."_

[Izaya Orihara was, is, and will always be whatever he wants to be. If he wants to be a coward, then he's a coward... but I don't think he'd be talking to me right now if that were really the case.] 

"I suppose you're right." Izaya admits, taking a sip of his vodka-coffee. "I'm just not very good at being brave." 

[Is anyone?] 

"Shizu-chan is." 

[Shizuo also has super-strength and incredibly thick skin.] 

"Fair point." Izaya exhales heavily and sets down his mug. "I think... I think I have some stuff to think about." 

[I should get going anyway. Shinra's wondering where I am.] 

"Of course. Thank you for humoring me for so long. " 

[It was no problem. Please try and stay safe, okay?] 

"If I must. Before you go, though, could you do me another favor?" 

[What?] 

"Could you give me Shizu-chan's number?" 

She nods. [Want me to text it to you?] 

"That would be excellent, thank you." 

She flips through her phone until she finds Shizuo's contact information, forwarding it to Izaya along with Mikado's. [Just in case.] She tells him, opening his front door. [Um... can I make a rather strange request?] 

"Go for it." 

[Can I give you a hug?] 

Izaya blinks, her question catching him off guard. That was not the kind of request he'd been expecting. "Why?" He asks, confused. 

[I just feel like you could use one, is all...] 

"That's... kind of you, but I'm not really comfortable with that kind of thing." 

[That's why I asked. Try not to stay up too late, okay? It's not good for you.] 

"Neither is most of the things I do. Hurry home, Celty-san. Say goodnight to Shinra for me." 

[Can do. Good night, Izaya.] She leaves, closing the door behind her. 

Taking a deep swig of his coffee, Izaya pulls up Shizuo's number and presses the CALL button. It rings a few times before the other man finally answers, obviously groggy. _'Hello?'_

"Hello, Shizu-chan. Did I wake you?" 

_"Yeah, you did. What's up?"_

"I'm drunk." 

_"Yeah?"_

"Yeah." 

_"Did something happen?"_

"Yes, but that's not important right now." 

_"Then why are you calling me?"_

"...You know what? Never mind. I don't want anything. Sorry for waking you." He hangs up before Shizuo has a chance to respond, his heart pounding in his chest. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

There's a buzz, alerting him to a new text message. Instead of looking at it, he shuts off his phone and glances around for the remote so he can turn on the T.V. There's not a whole lot playing, mostly reruns and old movies; after a few minutes of searching, he eventually gives up on finding anything to watch and settles for putting on the classical music channel. He's about to nod off when a loud knock on the door startles him. 

_**Now** who is it?_

He opens it to find a very annoyed Shizuo staring down at him, his blond hair sticking up like he hadn't bothered to brush it before leaving his apartment. "Oh. Hello, Shizu-chan... I wasn't expecting you!" 

"Maybe if you hadn't shut off your goddamn phone, you woulda received my text saying I was coming over. Why'd you hang up on me, huh?" He asks, stepping all the way in so he can shut the door. 

"I don't know." 

"Bullshit." 

"I mean it, I really don't know. I don't even know why I called you in the first place -- hell, I don't even know why I do _anything_ anymore, okay?" He can feel himself starting to shake; he takes a deep breath, having to mentally remind himself that Shizuo most likely isn't here to beat him up. 

"Hey, hey. I believe you, okay?" Shizuo tells him, holding his hands up in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. "But it's the middle of the night and I really want to go back to sleep, so how about we both go to bed and then work shit out in the morning or something?" 

"Deal." Izaya agrees, relieved. "I'm starting to crash anyway." 

"Alright, then. Come on." He scoops Izaya up in his arms and carries him to his room, setting him on the bed so he can strip down to his boxers. Climbing in next to him, Shizuo plants a kiss on his cheek before pulling him close and nuzzling the back of his neck. "Good night, annoying flea." He yawns. 

"Good night, stupid beast. Don't snore _too_ loud." Izaya retorts, also yawning. Closing his eyes, he lets the sound of Shizuo's heartbeat lull him to sleep.


	33. Pushing Limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I've been pretty occupied due to finals and the new fic I started (which is here, if you're interested: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10801446/chapters/23963910)
> 
> School's out now, though, so updates should hopefully speed up a little. Anyway... I hope you find this chapter to be worth the wait!

Shizuo wakes to the sound of birds chirping, his eyes cracking open as he groggily pushes himself up into a sitting position. Izaya is nowhere in sight, but the spot he'd been sleeping on is still warm; yawning, Shizuo stretches before throwing off the covers and wandering out to look for the missing brunette. He finds him in the laundry room, leaning over the railing of the fire escape with a contemplative expression on his face and a lit cigarette held between his slender fingers. "Smoking is bad for your health, you know." Shizuo tells him, the remark an echo of what Izaya had said to him at Russia Sushi only a few days ago -- however, so much has happened since then that it almost feels like it's been longer than that. 

"Not as bad for my health as you are." Izaya grumbles, taking a drag off of his cigarette before offering it to the other man. 

"Fair enough, I guess. How you feeling?" Shizuo asks, accepting the cigarette and bringing it to his lips to inhale deeply. 

"Like shit, but that's just par for the course these days." 

Shizuo hands the cigarette back, frowning. "What happened last night?" 

"I was drunk." 

"Yeah, you said as much when you called me. Doesn't explain why you hung up on me like that, though." 

"Calling you was a mistake, I shouldn't have done it in the first place." 

"Then why did you?" 

"I don't know. Like I said, it was a mistake." Izaya takes another drag, then holds the cigarette out to Shizuo so he can start to make his way down into the kitchen. 

Shizuo sucks in the rest of the nicotine before flicking the butt out through the hole in the back of the laundry room, joining Izaya in the kitchen a moment later. "You know what I think?" 

"No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me." Izaya opens the fridge, taking out the box of leftover _Ai Frutte di Mare._ Wrapping a piece of it in a paper towel, he pops it into the microwave and presses the 30-second button. 

"Yep. See, I think you called me because you missed me." 

He snorts. "Me? Miss _you?_ That's hilarious." 

"Yeah, you think so? 'Cause if you ask me, I think it's pretty fucking sad." 

"Good thing I didn't ask you, then, isn't it?" 

"Damn it, Izaya... I'm fucking serious. You're just as in love with me as I am with you; I know it, you know it, Celty and Shinra know it -- denying it ain't gonna change shit, it's just gonna make you even more miserable than you already are." 

The microwave beeps, alerting Izaya to the fact that his "breakfast" is now ready. "I find it very difficult to imagine that I even _could_ be more miserable than I already am, Shizu-chan." He counters, blowing on his food until it's cool enough for him to take a bite. It doesn't taste nearly as good as it had the night before; wrinkling his nose, he tosses the rest of it into the trash. 

_It's not like I was that hungry, anyway._

"Izaya..." 

"What? What more do you want from me? I'm not you, I can't just _punch_ my problems into submission!" 

"Then tell me what they are, so _I_ can punch 'em _for_ you!" 

"That would just make things worse!" 

"How do you know if you don't try?" 

"Because I just do, alright?!" Izaya is starting to get frustrated. "I just fucking _do!"_

"Alright, alright! I'll fucking drop it, okay? Shit!" Shizuo takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Look, I'm just trying to fucking help you, alright? And don't you dare say that you don't need any help, 'cause it's pretty damn obvious that you have no fucking clue how to take care of yourself." 

"I know how to take care of myself just fine, thank you very much." He argues. 

"Yeah? Coulda fooled me." Shizuo is really starting to lose his patience. 

"Yes, well, that's not particularly hard to do." Izaya knows perfectly well that he's digging his own grave, but he's not ready to give in to the other man just yet. 

"Why do you have to be so goddamn difficult, huh? Do you _want_ to piss me off?" 

"Yes, Shizu-chan, that is _exactly_ what I want." He responds, his tone sarcastic despite the fact that right now he'd like nothing more than for the beast to finally snap and put an end to his sorry excuse for a life. 

"If you don't stop acting like a goddamn fucking asshole, it's exactly what you're gonna _get."_ Shizuo warns, clenching his fists. 

"Is that a threat, or a promise?" Izaya asks, his voice dripping with false sweetness. 

"Wanna keep going and find out, Iiiiiiizaaaaayaaaa-kuuun?" The irritated blonde drawls, sauntering towards the smaller man until he's close enough to loom menacingly over him. "Well? Do ya?" 

"Maybe I do, _Shizu-chan."_ Izaya challenges, glaring up at Shizuo as if _daring_ him to do something. 

_***DING DONG!***_

Freezing, the two men exchange a glance before looking towards the door. "I wasn't aware you were expectin' company." Shizuo comments. 

"I wasn't..." Izaya responds with a frown, stepping around him so he can go look through the peephole on his front door. "Damn it..." 

"Who is it?" 

"A friend." He sighs, opening the door so he can greet his visitor. "Mikado-kun! Playing hooky, I see -- tsk, tsk, tsk! What will your parents think?" 

"It's not like that, I swear!" The high-schooler protests, flustered. "School was cancelled because someone put rotten eggs in the air vents and the smell got so bad that it..." His voice trails off when he sees the amused look on Izaya's face. "Oh! You're messing with me, aren't you?" 

"Only a little. Are you going to tell me why you're here?" 

"Ah, well... I was hoping you'd be willing to continue our conversation, actually." The boy admits, scratching his head sheepishly. 

"You know, I'd love to -- but now's not really a good time. Perhaps come back later?" 

"Why isn't now a good time?" 

"Curiosity killed the cat, Tanako Tarou-kun." 

"But satisfaction brought it back -- right, Kanra-chan?" The look in Mikado's eyes reminds Izaya of when he first realized just how dangerous the young man is underneath his awkward exterior; if it hadn't been for him, the truth about Yagiri Pharmeceuticals would never have come to light. He can't help but remember what Celty had told him the night before; as much as he hates to admit it, it might be better to just tell Mikado the truth. 

"Alright, Mikado-kun. You win. I should warn you, though... you're not my only guest." He steps aside, holding the door open so the boy can enter. Mikado finds the warning strange; the informant looks like he's only just woken up, his hair not even brushed yet. 

"Really?" He asks, slipping off his shoes. "You don't look like you were expecting comp--" His words die in his throat when he notices said 'other guest' -- the man is wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue boxers, but Mikado recognizes him even without the tell-tale bartender uniform. "H-H-H-H-Heiwajima-san?!" 

_Did I accidentally walk into the Twilight Zone?!_

"Huh? Do I know you?" Shizuo asks, furrowing his brow. 

"U-u-u-u-u-um--" 

"What, cat got your tongue? Spit it out." 

Mikado looks like he's not sure whether he wants to run, hide, or beg for his life. "U-u-um. I-I--" 

"Shizu-chan, this is Mikado Ryuugamine." Izaya places a hand on the terrified teenager's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Mikado-kun, this is Shizu-chan." 

"My _name_ is _Shizuo,_ flea." 

"That's what I said: Shizu-chan." 

"Do you really wanna play that game with me right now, Izaya?" Shizuo asks, narrowing his eyes. "Because I don't think you do." 

Realizing that Izaya was right and that this really is a bad time, Mikado decides it might be a good idea for him to skedaddle. Sliding his shoes back on, he wordlessly slips out the door. 

"Yes, well, thinking has never been one of your... strengths..." Noticing that they're alone once more, Izaya's stomach drops. 

_Uh-oh..._

He barely has time to brace himself before he's suddenly pushed up against the wall, Shizuo's lips smashing against his as one of his warm palms slips up underneath the hem of his sweater. "Mmmph!" He squirms when Shizuo pinches one of his nipples, his cheeks burning as he feels blood start to rush to his groin. 

_Damn it..._

"Is this what you wanted, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo growls, shoving his knee in-between his thighs so he can force them apart. "Huh?" 

_Damn it, damn it, **damn** it!_

He doesn't have any room to shift without accidentally rubbing up against the other man's crotch, the friction between them causing a low groan to escape his lips. "What's wrong, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo grins, gyrating his hips. "Am I getting you all hot and bothered?" 

"You... hah... wish..." Izaya manages to retort, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries desperately to stay calm -- which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Shizuo drops to his knees and hooks his fingers into the waistband of his pants. 

"I dunno, flea..." Shizuo teases, pulling them down to expose his leaking erection. "You look pretty hot and bothered to me." 

"Have I ever told you how much I h-- ah, _fuck!"_ Izaya gasps, his eyes squeezing shut when Shizuo takes him into his warm, wet mouth. It feels so good, he can barely breathe; tangling his fingers into his bleach-blonde locks, Izaya moans and arches his back as the other man begins to greedily suck his cock. 

Shizuo bobs his head, devouring him like a starving dog might devour a bone. When he feels Izaya's nails dig into his scalp, he knows he's getting close; trading his mouth for his hand, Shizuo pumps Izaya's shaft until his toes curl into the carpet and his cum spills over his hand. Coating his fingers in the sticky liquid, Shizuo takes Izaya back into his mouth so that he's distracted when he starts to push one of them up into him... twisting it around a few times, he adds another, and then another, slowly stretching him open until he's loose enough to fit a fourth. "I'm going to fuck you now." He informs him, keeping the smaller man pinned while he stands back up and pushes his boxers down below his hips. "And I don't care if the goddamn president of the United States knocks on that door, I am not stopping until I cum. Got it?" Without even giving him a chance to protest, Shizuo lifts one of Izaya's legs up and begins to press himself into his tight, hot hole. 

"Hnn..." Overwhelmed by the sensation of Shizuo's thick cock penetrating him, Izaya can only moan as he begins to move inside of him. _"Fuck,_ Shizu-chan..." Wrapping his arms around the larger man's neck, Izaya pulls himself up so he can capture his lips in a messy, mindless kiss. 

_More... need more..._

Grinding down roughly onto Shizuo's cock, Izaya's kisses become more and more ferocious until both of their mouths have become swollen and red -- and the fiercer Izaya's kisses become, the harder Shizuo fucks him, pounding into him over and over until the pleasure overloads his senses and has him shooting his load deep inside of the brunette's perfect ass. _"Fuck."_

Izaya hates that the feel of the beast's hot cum beating against his prostate is enough to send him over the edge, his eyes rolling back as his ass clenches around Shizuo's cock and his own cum begins to once more ooze out of him. "Oh, _fuck..."_

Resting his forehead against the crook of Izaya's neck, Shizuo takes a minute or so to catch his breath before grabbing a couple paper towels from off the counter and carefully pulling out of the other man. Using one to wipe himself off, he gives the other to Izaya so he can do the same. 

_Fuck, I really need to pee..._

He heads into the guest bathroom so he can use the toilet, washing his hands before drying them off with one of the fluffy white towels. When he comes back out, he finds Izaya staring into his fridge with a sour look on his face. "What's up?" 

"I need to go grocery shopping." All the food he has either looks entirely unappetizing, or is past its expiration date. 

"Then let's go grocery shopping." 

"You're kidding, right?" Izaya shuts the door to the fridge, turning to look at the other man. "You want us to just go to the store together like we _haven't_ been trying to kill each other since high school?" 

Shizuo shrugs. "Why not?" 

"'Why not?' Shizu-chan, this isn't just some trivial change of routine -- this is a big fucking deal. People are going to ask questions, they'll spread rumors, they'll--" 

"Who gives a _fuck_ what other people are going to do, Izaya? Do you really want to spend your whole life worrying about the opinions of a buncha assholes with nothing better to do than run their goddamn fucking mouths?" 

"Not when you put it that way..." 

"That's what I thought. Come on." He wraps his fingers around Izaya's wrist and pulls him towards the bathroom. "Let's take a shower before we head out." 

"I am not leaving this apartment with you." 

"You are." 

"No, I'm not." 

"Yeah, you are. Wanna know why?" 

"Sure, Shizu-chan... why?" 

"Because I know what stir-crazy looks like, and if you stay cooped up in here for too much longer, you're gonna explode like a goddamn volcano." He lets go of him so he can turn on the water, waiting until it's warm to strip off his boxers and step into the tub. "Come on, flea. Get in." 

_Damn it._

Sighing, Izaya takes off his clothes and joins Shizuo in the shower. He doesn't want to admit it, but the brute is right; he really does need to get out of his apartment, even if it means being in public with Shizuo. 

_Look on the bright side, Izaya._ He thinks to himself, lathering his palms up with soap. _It's not like anyone's likely to try anything with the monster around._

Besides... he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward at least a _little_ to witnessing the expressions on the faces of the people that have been around long enough to learn that if you see Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima in the same place... well, it might be a good idea to _run._


	34. Chance Meetings, Re-Revisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long... ;w; I hope it was worth the wait.

Kadota Kyohei has not had the greatest of days.

It had started when he'd woken up for work this morning, only to find himself with a pounding headache no amount of water or aspirin seemed to be able to fix; he'd powered through it though, because he really needed the money... but when he'd shown up at the address he'd been given, the client had opened the door just long enough to inform him that they'd 'changed their mind' and were therefore 'no longer in need of a tiler'. If they had bothered to call and cancel beforehand, he could have gotten a little more sleep and therefore might not be so goddamn frustrated -- but, unfortunately for him, the client hadn't been that considerate. Feeling more than a little grumpy, he'd intended to perk himself up by going to his favorite cafe for some breakfast and coffee... but when he'd arrived, he was met with a completely empty building and a sign on the door stating that they were no longer in business. He blames the Starbucks that opened up down the street a few months ago; with such a large franchise in the area, the smaller, family-owned places didn't stand a chance. His already bad mood made worse, he'd figured his best bet was to just head home and take a nap... so of course he had to end up running into Erika and Walker first, who offered to buy him lunch at Russia Sushi if he'd be willing to help them settle a debate over the love life of a character from an anime he's never even heard of, let alone seen. Now, two hours later, he's seated at one of Russia Sushi's tables with his headache steadily growing worse as his two friends attempt to both explain the plot _and_ convince him that their opinion is the only one that's valid. Sighing heavily, he rubs his temples. 

_How much longer am I going to have to sit through this?_

"No, no, no, no, nooooooo, Yumacchi! The water god _can't_ be in love with the heroine -- he's clearly in love with the fire god, remember in episode seventeen of season three, when the earth goddess told him that the only way to restore the barren kingdom to its former glory was to make it rain for thirty days and thirty nights, but he'd refused to do it until he knew for certain that the fire god would be safe from the storm? If that's not love, I don't know what is!" 

"You're delusional, Karisawa-san! The fire god and the water god are mortal enemies, the only reason the water god waited until the fire god was safe is because even indirect murder would be a violation of the convention of harmony!" 

"You forget that he'd already violated the convention several times before the barren kingdom arc had even begun, Yumacchi -- remember the quarry incident in season one?" 

"The quarry incident doesn't count, he didn't know how to control his powers yet! It's not a violation of the convention if it's an accident, they established that in the episode where they introduce the wind goddess!" 

"Maybe so, but remember what he told the heroine right before he went to face off against the big bad? He _knew_ there was a chance that using his powers could prove disastrous, but he cared more about getting revenge than he did about keeping her safe. If the earth goddess hadn't shown up in time, there's no way she would have survived that landslide!" 

"Okay, I'll admit you might be right about that, but this is from the same studio that produced both the 'My Ghost Girlfriend' and 'My Stepmom is a Succubus' series -- they'd never risk alienating their loyal fanbase by catering to the fantasies of fujoshi like you, it's just too unrealistic!" 

"And a moe lolita ghost who's in love with an unattractive, overweight, hentai-obsessed hikikomori isn't?" 

"It's called suspension of disbelief, Karisawa-san! It's not meant to be realistic!" 

"Neither is an anime about elemental deities trying to save their universe from being conquered by space pirates, Yumacchi! Besides, you didn't seem to have a problem with that one scene between the heroine and the fire god's high priestess -- double standards, much?" 

"That's different! Kadota-san, you're on my side, right? Tell her that it's different!" 

"Huh?" Kadota blinks, having been too busy spacing out to pay attention to the conversation. "What's different?" 

"Yumacchi thinks it makes much more sense for a devoted priestess -- who took a vow of _celibacy_ , mind you -- to seduce a woman she's just met in order to perform a forbidden ritual than it does for two men who have known each other for hundreds of years and feel very passionately about each other to have a secret romance." Erika tells him matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her soda. "I think he's in denial." 

"I'm not in denial, Karisawa-san!" 

"Oh, then what is it, then?" 

"It's a guy thing! You wouldn't understand!" 

"That sounds like an excuse, Yumacchi." 

"It's not an excuse -- Kadota-san, you agree with me, right?" 

"No." 

"See? Kadota-san agrees with -- wait, what?" Walker backtracks, a confused frown on his face. "What do you mean, 'no'?" 

Kadota doesn't exactly have the patience for this right now, but he can't help but remember the way Izaya had been acting when he'd visited his apartment the other day... _or_ what Shizuo had told him afterwards, about his mental state and how much it had scared him. Compared to what either of those two men have had to deal with lately, his bad day suddenly doesn't seem like such a big deal -- but if he had to choose between spending the rest of his life in Shizuo's shoes or spending a single day in Izaya's, he's fairly certain he'd pick Shizuo's. "Yumasaki, I remember you once spent almost half a year refusing to eat anything with garlic in it because you had a crush on a goth-loli vampire from an ecchi anime. If you're uncomfortable with the idea of homosexuality, just say so... don't try to use shitty excuses to justify it." 

"Hah!" Erika bangs her fists on the table triumphantly, her drink just barely managing to keep from tipping over and spilling its contents all over the table. "Suck it, Yumacchi!" 

"Do you really have to rub it in?!" 

"You always rub it in when he takes _your_ side, why can't I?" 

"It's called being the bigger person, Karisawa-san!" 

Sighing and once more rubbing his temples, Kadota has just about had it when he happens to glance in the direction of the doorway... also happening to see two very familiar faces waiting to be seated. 

_Uh-oh..._

While it doesn't look like Erika has seen them yet, Kadota knows it's only a matter of time; sparing a glance at the pair of arguing otaku, he gets up from the table and heads over towards the entrance. When Izaya notices him, he tugs on Shizuo's sleeve to get his attention. "What, what do you -- oh, hey, Kadota. What's up?" 

"I wasn't expecting to see you guys together in public yet." He remarks, adjusting his position so that even if Erika turned to look in their direction she still wouldn't see them. "You might want to find someplace else for lunch, though." He says, pointedly tilting his head in her direction. Unsurprisingly, Izaya picks up on the hint immediately; also unsurprisingly, Shizuo doesn't. 

"Why? The place doesn't look too crowded or anything, it... what?" Shizuo glances down at Izaya, who is tugging even harder on his sleeve. "What is it?" 

"Something I really don't want to have to deal with right now, so I'd very much like it if we could _leave_ before that something... _shit!"_ From the tone in his voice alone, Kadota is able to deduce that it's already too late -- sure enough, when he glances back over his shoulder, he sees a very, very, _very_ wide-eyed Erika staring in their direction. 

"Shit." He echoes. 

_So much for trying to block her view..._

"Oi." Unlike his other half (just thinking those words feels strange to Kadota), Shizuo seems completely calm; it occurs to him that, despite having met her several times, there's a good chance he doesn't remember who Erika is -- but he quickly discovers that that's not the case. "Is that the same girl that was with you last time?" 

"Yeah, and she's why I'm telling you that you guys should go somewhere else. She--" 

"I know who she is, Celty told me about her." Shizuo says, cutting him off before he can finish. His expression seems curious (thoughtful, even), as if he's trying to decide what to do; Izaya has given up on the tugging, realizing that he might as well be a gnat for all the good it's doing. After a few seconds, Shizuo nods to himself affirmingly, appearing to have come to a decision. "Do you think you guys have room for a couple more?" He asks, the question taking both Kadota and Izaya by surprise. 

"Wait, wait, wait, you can't be serious... we are not eating at the same table as her!" The smaller man protests, knowing full well that dealing with someone like Karisawa in his current mentality would only end up making things worse. 

"Why not? I'm starving, it's lunch hour, and I don't wanna wait thirty minutes just to get a table, let alone eat. Besides, I keep telling you, don't I? If you keep running away from every little thing that makes you uncomfortable, you're never going to be happy." 

Kadota isn't normally the type of person to willingly involve himself in other people's relationship problems (especially when one of them is strong enough to snap him in half without even breaking a sweat), but the power imbalance between the two men is so blatantly obvious that he wouldn't feel right if he didn't at least _try_ to do something about it. "Shizuo, can we talk outside?" 

"Huh?" The blonde blinks, furrowing his brow. "I mean, yeah, I guess so... is something up?" 

"Yes, no, maybe so... I'll explain outside. So can we?" He gestures at the door with his thumb. 

"Yeah, sure... but I really do need to eat soon, or I'm gonna start getting grumpy." Shizuo informs him. 

_I believe it..._

Kadota opens the door for his friend, allowing him to go through first before doing the same himself -- right before the door shuts, however, there's a split-second where he's able to see Izaya mouthing something to him. He's not one-hundred percent certain... but it looks a whole helluva lot like 'thank you'.


	35. Only Human

_I knew it. I knew coming here was a bad idea._

Izaya hovers near the inside entrance of Russia Sushi, his arms crossed over his chest and a sour look on his face. The look is _so_ sour, in fact, that it's drawing curious glances from some of the other patrons; he wants to tell them to mind their own fucking business, but Simon's presence is doing a good job at keeping him on his best behavior. Normally the cheerful Russian man gives Izaya at least a small semblance of security, but right now he's only managing to add to his already above-average amount of anxiety -- he knows he shouldn't make assumptions based solely on a person's country of origin, but it's no secret that Russia isn't the most welcoming place for... well... people like _him_ , and he can't help but worry that Simon and/or Dennis might have brought that mindset with them to Japan. While currently they shouldn't have any reason to suspect that he's anything other than status quo, his... _partner_... isn't exactly known for thinking before he speaks (or before doing much of anything, really). It's only a matter of time before he lets something slip and accidentally outs them both. 

He's in the middle of contemplating whether or not he wants to try and slip out the back door when his phone buzzes, alerting him to a new text message from his new friend the Headless Rider. _'Where are you?'_ It asks. 

_'Hell.'_ He replies without hesitation. 

_'Does 'hell' happen to be Russia Sushi?'_

He frowns, about to ask her how she knows that when he remembers just how many people had stopped to stare in confusion at the sight of the two bitter enemies walking side-by-side down the streets of Ikebukuro... as _well_ as just how many people the infamous Dollars gang actually has in it. It would be stranger if a member _hadn't_ posted something about it by now. _'Is that where the grapevine says I am?'_

_'It's all over the boards... almost everyone's talking about it.'_

Sighing, Izaya pinches the bridge of his nose. _'Fantastic. What are they saying?'_

_'Only that the two of you showed up together. The current theory is that you've managed to blackmail Shizuo into being your bodyguard.'_

_'If only the truth were so flattering.'_ The only reason he's not stressing too badly over the very real (and very _likely_ ) possibility that his shameful little secret might end up spreading like a bad case of the flu is that he doubts his reputation could get much worse than it already is. 

_'What are you guys doing all the way in Ikebukuro?'_

_'The beast wanted to get lunch. I, however, didn't... so when he asked me if there was anywhere in particular I wanted to go, I told him the only thing I was in the mood for was an order of fatty tuna from Russia Sushi. I was hoping he'd decide it was too much trouble and change his mind about eating out, but... obviously, that backfired horribly.'_ He glances at Erika, who has not taken her eyes off of him once. Fortunately, she seems content to simply ogle at him from her seat on the other side of the room... _un_ -fortunately, said ogling has convinced several other curious patrons that he is now the most interesting thing in the establishment. What's also interesting, he thinks, is how the right (or in this case, the wrong) circumstances can completely change the way an individual thinks about another person; he's never really had a reason to feel any animosity towards Karisawa before, but right now he can't stop thinking about how satisfying it would be to take a pair of chopsticks and drive them directly into both of her eye sockets. 

_That's it. I need to leave._

Despite knowing full well that he's not doing himself any favors, Izaya makes his way towards the back of the restaurant. He's almost reached the exit when a strong hand grips his shoulder, keeping him from being able to make his escape. 

_Damn it!_

"Back exit emergency only!" A deep, booming voice informs him. "It no emergency, use front!" 

"Come now, Simon... couldn't you make an exception just this once?" Izaya asks, trying not to appear as anxious as he actually feels. 

The much larger man shakes his head and firmly maneuvers Izaya back in the direction of the front entrance. "I-za-ya too thin! Need to eat good, healthy lunch! You sit down, I bring you fatty tuna." 

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry." Izaya protests, having no desire to go back to being gawked at like a circus act. 

"Happiness is only companion to full stomach! Empty stomach no good, empty stomach bring stress." Simon points to a seat at the bar, then claps Izaya on the back and pushes him towards it. "I bring you drink, too. Water? Tea?" 

Izaya almost wants to ask him to mix him up a Black Russian, but he decides better of it. Sighing, he takes his seat. "Tea's fine. I don't care what kind." 

"Okay, okay! I be right back with tea, you no go anywhere." The black Russian grins and gives him a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen, which Izaya contemplates using as another chance to make a break for it before he realizes just how pointless it would be with both Simon _and_ Shizuo there to get in his way. 

_You know what? Fuck it._

When Simon returns less than a minute later, he asks him for a Black Russian. 

\------------- 

"Look, Shizuo... I get that you're trying to help, but if you force someone to move at a pace they're not comfortable with, chances are they're gonna trip and fall at least once -- and when that same someone isn't used to falling, it's going to be a lot harder for them to get back up." 

"So what am I supposed to do, Kadota? If I _don't_ force him, he won't move at all!" 

"I don't know, I just know you're walking a dangerous line." Kadota tells him, feeling very much like he _himself_ is walking a dangerous line. He has no idea how far he can push the issue before Shizuo finally snaps, and he _really_ doesn't want to find out... but he's no coward, so he's not about to let that stop him from doing what he came out here to do. "The only person you're responsible for is yourself, just like Izaya is the only one responsible for _him_ self. He's not a child, no matter how much he might act like one -- treating him like he's some burden you have to bear is... well, it's kinda fucked up." 

Shizuo frowns and takes a moment to consider what his friend has just told him. 

_Is that how I think of him? As a burden?_

"Shizuo?" 

"Huh?" 

"You went quiet there for a second. You okay?" 

"Yeah, sorry, I was just... thinking." He sighs and goes to take a drag off of his cigarette, only to find that it's gone out. "Goddamnit..." He fishes around in his pocket for his lighter, bringing it up to his lips so he can get the damn thing lit again -- but the second the flame sparks, it goes back out again. _"Goddamnit!"_

"Looks like the winds starting to pick up again... think it's gonna rain?" 

"With my shit luck? Probably." The flame is refusing to stick around long enough for him to re-light his cigarette, making him more and more annoyed with each passing second. He has half a mind to chuck the worthless piece of shit into the sky, but the number of lighters he's either lost or broken is getting into the triple digits. Sighing once more, he shoves the lighter back into his pocket. "Anything else you wanna tell me before I turn around and go back inside?" 

Kadota isn't entirely sure Shizuo understands what he's trying to say, but he also isn't entirely sure this is the best time to press it. "Naw, nothing that can't wait." He responds, hoping it doesn't come back around to bite him in the ass. 

"Great, 'cause I'm fucking starving." Shizuo holds the door open for the other man before entering behind him, pausing to look around for Izaya. He finds him at the bar, a half-finished mug of tea on one side and a mostly-finished coffee-colored drink on the other; he isn't looking at him, but Shizuo can tell that he knows he's there. "Hey." 

"Hey." 

"What's that?" He asks, pointing to the darker of the two drinks as he takes a seat next to him. 

"A Black Russian. Here, wanna try it?" He slides it over towards him, watching as he picks it up and takes a sip. 

"Is there alcohol in this?" 

"Yep." 

"Damn. That's dangerous." He can barely taste anything other than coffee. 

"Indeed." 

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking, though?" 

Izaya responds by shrugging and taking another drink. 

"You're at least gonna eat something, right?" 

"Yes, _father."_ Izaya says mockingly. "Want one? I'll pay." 

"...Yeah, sure. Why not." He knows it's just a coincidence, but being called 'father' by the man he's sleeping with not even five minutes after being scolded for treating him like he's his responsibility really does a good job of driving Kadota's point home. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to pay for my lunch, too?" 

"Other than the urge to be needlessly contrary, I don't really see why not." 

"Thanks." 

"You're not welcome~." 

Rolling his eyes, Shizuo catches Dennis's attention and gives him his order before turning back to the smaller man. "So I guess I owe you an apology." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. Kadota said I shouldn't push you so hard... said I was walking a dangerous line." 

"And what do you think he meant by that?" 

"That if I don't want to wind up becoming an abusive asshole, I should stop treating you like a burden." 

"I could have told you that." 

"Yeah, and I probably wouldn't have listened." He remarks, his lack of trust in himself almost tangible. 

"Yes, well... we all make mistakes, don't we? We're only human, after all." 

It's such a simple comment, said without any particular emphasis or expression... but to Shizuo it feels like an ice cold glass of milk on a sweltering summer's day. Grinning, he steals another drink of Izaya's Black Russian while he waits for his own.


	36. Reassurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends! Sorry it's taken so long for me to update... my laptop screen crapped out on me again, and I haven't gotten financial aid yet due to stupid bureaucratic bullshit so I haven't been able to get it replaced. I also had quite a bit of trouble with this chapter, so it's not as long as I intended it to be. ;w;

Shizuo Heiwajima is no genius.

To anyone who knows him, this should come as no surprise; the man has always paid more attention to his instincts than his common sense, refusing to stop for even a _second_ to consider that maybe, just maybe, the things he believed might not be entirely true. Unfortunately, this has lead him to more than a few assumptions... assumptions that he's becoming more and more certain are the reason Izaya Orihara is the way he is, and nothing that he's learned in the short amount of time that the two men have been intimate has done anything to make him think otherwise. That's why, when Simon returns with his first drink just in time for Izaya to order his second, Shizuo can't stop the frown from forming on his face. It doesn't _take_ a genius to recognize that Izaya's behavior is not at _all_ healthy. 

Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, Shizuo is relieved to discover that Kadota and his two buddies are no longer there. He doesn't know why he'd thought it might be a good idea to eat lunch with them, especially now that it's obvious Izaya didn't even want to be here in the first place; his gut instinct is to be angry, to turn it all back onto Izaya for lying to him... but the only thing he hates more than a liar is a hypocrite, and it's becoming more and more obvious to him that that's pretty much _exactly_ what he is. 

He's about to ask Izaya if he wants to just leave when Simon exits the kitchen, heading towards them with a tray of food in one hand and Izaya's Black Russian in the other. "One beef bento for Shizuo!" He announces cheerfully, setting the bento box down in front of him. "And one fatty tuna for Izaya! Is refreshing to be seeing you eating together willingly! Is good you get along, fighting no good for happy stomach!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Simon." Shizuo smiles to show his appreciation, breaking apart his chopsticks so he can finally get some lunch into his system. Russia Sushi's food has always been just as good as it is affordable, and this bento is no exception; when Shizuo eventually goes to take another bite and realizes that there isn't any left, he can't help but feel a little disappointed. 

_Damn..._

Sighing and setting his chopsticks on top of the empty bento box, he finishes up his drink before glancing out the window at the busy streets of Ikebukuro. The sky definitely seems grayer than it had when they’d first arrived… he doubts it's going to stay dry for very much longer. "Oi, flea." 

"Hmm?" 

"Are you dead set on headin' back to Shinjuku tonight?" 

Izaya pauses mid-bite, a curious look on his face. "Why?" He asks, trying not to sound as suspicious as he feels. He knows Shizuo’s most likely not plotting to do anything particularly harmful to him (at least not on purpose), but he still can’t help but feel a little nervous as to what the other man might be thinking -- though, if he's being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever really _not_ felt a little nervous as to what the other man might be thinking. If he could read the beast even a fraction as well as he could read other people, he wouldn’t intimidate him nearly as much. 

"Looks like it might start raining again. Was wonderin' if you wanted to maybe stick it out at my place instead." 

Izaya turns towards the window, taking in the sight of the grey, miserable-looking city. He’s fully aware that the more the two of them are seen going back and forth between each other’s apartments, the more likely it is that people will be able to connect the dots; unfortunately, with how many times he’s ended up being caught in the rain lately, he’s also fully aware that he’s playing Russian Roulette with his immune system every time he goes outside. He really, really, really doesn’t want to catch a cold. He feels enough like shit as it is. 

_Fuck it._

Sighing, he pops his last piece of sushi into his mouth and washes it down with what's left of his drink. "Sure, why not." He answers, his words only _slightly_ slurred. "Yoohoo~! Simon!" He waves to get his attention. 

“Ah, Izaya! You ready for check now?” Simon asks, in the middle of refilling another customer's water glass. 

“I am indeed!” Izaya responds, fishing his wallet out of his jacket pocket so he can have his card ready. “And I'll be paying for both of us, so we'll just need the one.” 

"Ah, yes, yes! One check only, I will bring right away!” Simon says cheerfully, beaming at them from ear to ear before setting the water pitcher down on the counter. “My heart sings to be seeing you two friendly, is truly a happy day for old Simon. You pay cash or card?” 

“Card, please!” Izaya answers, holding it out to the other man while hoping with all his heart that his discomfort isn’t as obvious as it feels. If it is, Simon doesn’t mention it; he simply takes the card from him and gives him a thumbs-up, then turns so he can head over to the register. Sighing in relief, Izaya stands up and tugs on his jacket. The sooner he can get out of here, the better. 

“Oi. Izaya.” 

“Yes?” He responds, glancing over at the other man. Shizuo looks concerned about something… but before he can say what’s on his mind, Simon comes back with the receipt, Izaya’s card, and a pair of fortune cookies. 

“Thank you for business!” He booms in his familiar, exaggerated Japanese, holding Izaya’s card out to him -- but when he goes to take it, instead of letting go, Simon clasps one of his large, warm hands over Izaya’s much smaller one and looks down into his eyes with a serious expression. _”A world that teaches to hate instead of love is a sick world indeed.”_ He says in Russian, his voice calm yet firm. _”But know that you are in no danger here. This is a safe place. Do you understand?”_

_”I’m not entirely sure what you’re trying to imply.”_ Izaya responds, also in Russian; it’s a half-hearted lie, and it’s obvious from the way Simon raises his eyebrows that he doesn’t buy it at all. 

_”When it comes to Shizuo, you are like an open book. You always have been.”_

_Damn it._

Izaya is still trying to decide whether or not he wants to continue feigning ignorance when Simon suddenly releases him, moving his hands to Izaya’s shoulders so he can give them a reassuring squeeze. “But is good, yes?” He says, back to his normal broken Japanese. “You come back soon, have good sushi and talks with old Simon. Shizuo! You come back too, yes?” 

It takes Shizuo a moment to realize he’s being addressed, having been caught off-guard by the sudden language shift. “Huh? Oh, yeah. ‘Course I will.” He informs him, giving him a small wave before turning back to Izaya. He’d already known he could speak English... but Russian? That’s news to him. 

_Just how many languages does this guy know?_

Making a mental note to ask him about it later, Shizuo gets to his feet and retrieves his glasses from his vest pocket, unfolding them so he can push them up his nose. “We done here?” 

“We’re done here.” Izaya affirms, not even bothering to see if the other man is following him before heading out the door into the grey, windy city.


	37. All's Fair in Love and War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy. >.<

“So what did he say?”

“Who, Simon?” 

“Yeah. What did he say?” Shizuo asks again, keeping an even pace with the smaller man as they make their way back to his apartment. The route itself is no different from the first time they’d left Russia Sushi together, but the relationship between them has changed so drastically since then that the awkward, tense silence they’d experienced before seems more like a distant memory than something that happened less than a week ago. 

“He--” Izaya starts to say, before the feeling of a light drop of water hitting the top of his head distracts him. Pausing to look up at the grey, cloudy afternoon sky, he frowns when another drop splashes against his cheek; there are only a few blocks left before they reach Shizuo’s apartment complex, but whether or not they actually get there in time to avoid getting soaked remains to be seen. Deciding he’d rather not linger long enough to find out, he turns to the other man. “Hey, Shizu-chan.” 

“What?” 

“Race you.” He says with a smirk, taking off before Shizuo even has a chance to respond, let alone stop him. 

“God damn it, Izaya!” Having no desire to lose to the cheating little shit, Shizuo immediately starts to chase after him, almost mowing down an unfortunate pedestrian in his rush to catch up with the smaller man. He’d forgotten just how _fast_ Izaya can be; as annoyed as he is, he can’t help but be impressed that he’s still able to move that quickly (especially considering the fact that he could barely stand on his own only a couple of days ago). “You could have given me a heads up, you know!” 

“Where's the fun in that?!” Izaya calls back, laughing. The rain has already started to pick up, but he barely notices, let alone cares; racing through the streets like this reminds him of how things were before, nostalgia mixing with adrenaline to give him the speed boost he needs to leave Shizuo far behind. 

“I’ll show you where the fun is, y’goddamn brat!” Shizuo hollers, breaking into a sprint so he can try and close the distance -- unfortunately for him, he’s unable to do so in time to keep Izaya from reaching the apartment first. 

“I win!” The brunette announces triumphantly, obviously pleased with himself. “And I’m not even at peak performance. Did you even try?” 

“Of course I fucking tried, it ain’t my fault you fucking cheated!” 

“All’s fair in love and war, Shizu-chan.” Izaya taunts, sticking his tongue out. 

“Yeah?” Shizuo is tempted to reach out and grab it like he had the last time Izaya decided he wanted to be a brat, but he decides against it in favor of taking his keys out of his pocket and unlocking his front door so the two of them can get out of the rain. “Which one’s this?” 

“Huh?” Izaya raises an eyebrow, a quizzical expression on his face. 

“Love or war. Which one is it?” He asks, making sure the door is shut behind them before turning to Izaya and crossing his arms. 

_Seriously? He wants to do this now?_

Sighing, he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack. “I was under the impression you already knew the answer to that question, Shizu-chan.” He comments, stripping off his shirt as he makes his way towards the bathroom. 

“I do.” Shizuo responds, following after him. “But I want to hear you say it.” 

“And if I refuse?” He asks, unbuckling his pants while pretending not to notice the way the other man’s eyes rake over his bare back. 

“You won’t.” 

“And what makes you so sure of that?” 

Shizuo answers by coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him back against his chest. The feeling of the cold, wet fabric rubbing against his bare skin causes goosebumps to spread all over his body; it doesn’t help that the beast’s breath is hot on his neck, causing all of the tiny little hairs on the back of it to stand on end. “Call it a hunch.” He murmurs against his nape, letting one of his hands slide down Izaya’s smooth abdomen so he can slip it underneath the waistband of his briefs. “Shit… you’re already this hard?” He comments, taking hold of his cock and rubbing the tip with his thumb. 

“Shu… shu…” His knees suddenly feeling very, very weak, Izaya bites his lip as Shizuo begins to stroke him at a pace that could easily rival a snail. 

_Damn him, damn him, **damn** him!_

“What’s wrong, flea? Cat got your tongue?” Shizuo asks, pushing Izaya’s pants and underwear down so he can grind against his bare ass. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how absolutely _satisfying_ it is to tease the smaller man, even the lightest of touches causing him to shudder; he might not have won the race, but the consolation prize _more_ than makes up for it.”Well?” He peppers his neck with kisses all the way up to his ear, where he sucks on it until Izaya’s eyes flutter shut and his head leans back against Shizuo’s chest. 

“I hate you.” He breathes, his cheeks flushed with arousal. 

“What have I told you about lying, Iiiizaaaayaaa-kun?” Shizuo says, maneuvering them so he can bend Izaya over the sink. He lets go of his erection, using one hand to keep him pinned and the other to start unbuttoning his vest. “Well?” 

“I’m not lying.” Izaya manages to respond, despite wanting nothing more than for Shizuo to just _fuck_ him already. “I hate you… hnn… very much right now.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Shizuo grins and lets his slacks drop to the ground, his bare cock now free to slide between Izaya’s soft cheeks. “You sure about that?” 

“Ha… Ha…” He can’t even make out the whole word, so drunk on desire (and two Black Russians) that all he can do is let out a needy groan. 

_Damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, **damn** him!_

“Why don’t you just tell me the truth, huh?” Shizuo reaches in-between them so he can tease Izaya’s ass with his finger, sliding it in only to immediately slide it back out again. “If you do that, I’ll give you what you want.” 

Izaya’s getting to the point where he feels like he’s about to explode, wanting so badly to come that he’s actually considering giving into the monster’s demands. Letting out a sob of frustration, he opens his eyes… only to be met with his own reflection staring back at him, red-faced and practically on the verge of tears. He immediately shuts them again. 

_Why do I do this to myself?_

Shizuo hasn’t once stopped teasing him, going from fingering him to rubbing the head of his cock against his entrance and back again. “Tell me the _truth_ , Izaya.” He commands. _”Tell me you love me.”_

_Why don’t you just tell him?_

Because that would be admitting he won. 

_He’s already won._

“Ugh! Fine! I’ll say it!” He surrenders, unable to hold out for even a second longer. “I love you, okay?! I love you, and I hate that I love you, and I hate that I let you do these things to me, and I hate that you can always see right through me, and I just -- I hate it! I love you, and I ha-- _ahhhhh_ , fuck…” Shizuo has chosen that moment to make good on his part of the bargain, sliding into him with the ease of a key fitting in a lock; he grabs Izaya by the chin and forces his face towards him, once more crushing his lips against Izaya’s much, much softer ones. 

“Say it again.” He orders breathlessly, pulling out slowly only to push back in even _more_ slowly. “Tell me you love me, Izaya.” 

“I… ah…” 

“You…?” 

“L...l…” 

“You l…?” 

“Love. Love you. Kiss me.” Izaya finally manages to say, Shizuo more than happy to oblige; turning him around so his back is pressed against the sink, he eagerly claims Izaya’s lips as he hoists him up by the hips and slowly pushes back into him. 

“Say it again.” Shizuo breathes against his mouth, going only _slightly_ slower than he was before. 

“Love you. I love you.” It comes out almost as a whine, Izaya needily grinding down on Shizuo’s cock. Pressing their lips together once more, Shizuo starts to pick up the pace. 

“Again.” He commands, feeling himself getting close. 

“I love you! I love you I love you I love you I love you! Is that good enough for you? _Please_ just fucking kiss me!” 

Once more Shizuo obliges, only this time he doesn’t stop; at least not until he feels Izaya squeezing down on him, the realization that he’s orgasming causing him to speed up until he’s reached the peak himself. By the time he’s done emptying his balls, Izaya is so full of his cum that it’s leaking out around him. Maneuvering them over to the toilet, he sets Izaya down on it before pulling out, grabbing a dirty towel to clean himself off with. 

_I really need to do laundry…_

“Oi. Flea.” 

“What?” 

“Can I do my laundry at your place? Otherwise I’m gonna have to go to a laundromat, and those things really try my patience.” 

“If I say yes, will you let me have the bathroom to myself?” 

“Sure.” 

“Then yes, you can… though if this is going to happen a lot, you might as well just bring over everything.” 

“What do you mean, ‘everything’?” 

“Could you leave now please?” 

“Wait, tell me what you mean by everything.” 

“You know, like… all of it. Can I please just use the toilet in peace?” 

_Wait… is he suggesting I move in with him?_

Unsure how to respond, Shizuo grabs his clothes off the bathroom floor before heading out of it, dropping them in his laundry basket. Going over to what’s left of his clean laundry, he manages to find a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He tugs them on and goes over to his futon, flopping backwards down on it so he can stare up at the ceiling. It’s only midday, but he’s already feeling pretty damn tired… deciding there’s no reason why he can’t take a nap, he closes his eyes and lets his body relax.


	38. The Price of Boredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, it ended up being way longer than I anticipated.

Roughly thirty minutes end up passing before Izaya actually leaves Shizuo’s tiny bathroom, having decided that a hot bath sounded far too nice to pass up on. Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t thought to ask Shizuo for a change of clothes first; he’s forced to settle for drying himself off with the cleanest towel he can find, wrapping it around his waist so he’s not _completely_ naked when he heads back out into the main part of Shizuo’s studio apartment. The other man is currently passed out on the futon, snoring away like he hasn’t a care in the world -- Izaya debates waking him up and making him find him something to wear, but an idea pops into his head that causes him to instead wander over to Shizuo’s ‘laundry chair’ and dig through it until he locates one of the bartender outfits the blonde had gotten from his beloved little brother. Ever since Kasuka’d given him the damn things, Shizuo had basically refused to leave his apartment wearing anything else -- to say he’s attached would be an understatement, a sizeable chunk of his public temper tantrums having been in response to someone either damaging or spilling something on them… which, of course, does nothing to dissuade Izaya from eagerly putting one of them on.

The black slacks are long enough that he has to both roll up the legs _and_ use a belt to keep them from falling down or dragging on the floor, and the white dress shirt is too big as well (like the pant legs, the sleeves also need to be rolled up so that he actually has access to his hands). The vest fits only slightly better than that, and even the bowtie is a little loose (though that could just be because he doesn’t really care enough to bother trying to figure out how to properly tighten it). Thankfully, the outfit’s inconvenient size doesn’t affect its ability to provide at least a decent amount of warmth or cover. 

Heading back over to the futon, he flops down onto it and rolls over onto his side so he can study the other man’s sleeping face. He looks absolutely ridiculous, with his mouth hanging open so wide that Izaya can’t help but wonder just how many insects he’s accidentally swallowed in his lifetime; he knows he should probably just let the other man nap in peace, but he’s both too drunk and too bored not to give in to his urge to mess with him. Searching around for the Sharpie he’d gotten his hands on the last time he was here, he finds it on the floor next to Shizuo’s broken coffee table. 

_Now… what to draw…_

After a minute or so of contemplation, he decides on the classic “glasses and mustache” motif, making sure to be as careful as possible so he doesn’t accidentally end up waking the sleeping beast. Thankfully, the blonde doesn’t once budge, allowing Izaya to finish his “masterpiece” without incident; he’s just put the cap back on the Sharpie when a knock on the front door startles him -- having no idea who it could be and also no desire to go and look, he jumps up and runs back into the bathroom before whoever it is can get a glimpse of him through the window. There’s another, louder knock, this time followed by a grumpy “yeah, yeah, I’m coming” from a now obviously-awake Shizuo, which itself is followed by the sound of rustling fabric and a zipper -- it occurs to Izaya that Shizuo is about to answer the door having no idea his face has been… _defaced_... and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to burst out into giggles just thinking about it. “Oh, hey, Tom-senpai.” He hears Shizuo greet the mystery visitor, the fact that it’s the beast’s _boss_ on the other side of the door making it even harder for him to suppress his laughter. His cheeks are actually starting to turn red from the effort. 

_Oh, this is just **too** perfect!_

“Um, hey…” Izaya wonders if the dreadlocked man’s face looks as confused as his voice sounds. “How are, uh… how are you doing?” 

“Decent enough… is something wrong, Tom-senpai? You have a really weird look on your face.” 

“No, no, not at all!” Tom replies hastily. “I was just, uh… I was in the neighborhood, and I wanted to stop by and see if everything was okay. I haven’t heard from you in a while, and you’re generally pretty good about getting back to me.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I’ve had some life stuff come up, it’s been keepin’ me pretty occupied. Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You keep staring at my face like there’s somethin’ on it.” 

“...” 

_Oh, god. I really wish I could see Tom-san’s face right now, I bet it looks absolutely **hilarious!**_ Izaya thinks to himself, unable to stop a snicker from escaping his lips. 

“...There’s something on it, isn’t there.” Shizuo says after an awkward pause. It’s more of a statement than a question. 

“Yeah. Yeah, there’s something on it.” Tom responds hesitantly, having seen enough of Shizuo’s outbursts to know that “don’t shoot the messenger” isn’t really a policy he lives by. Luckily, Shizuo’s irritation isn’t directed at him. 

“Could you wait here for a sec? I’ll be right back.” The blonde says through gritted teeth. A second later, Izaya hears the door slam and the sound of heavy footsteps heading in his direction -- before he even has enough time to think _’uh-oh’_ , the bathroom door has been yanked open and Shizuo is staring down at him with a look that _would_ have been intimidating had it not been for the ridiculous-looking pair of spectacles and handlebar mustache that had been drawn on his face. Another snicker escapes Izaya’s lips. 

_I’m going to die. I’m going to die, and I don’t regret a thing!_

Shizuo, on the other hand, is not at _all_ pleased. One look in the mirror tells him everything he needs to know -- taking a deep breath, he counts down from five before turning and silently walking out of the bathroom. 

_I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him…_

Opening his front door, he smiles in a way that’s meant to be reassuring but ends up looking more like a wolf baring its teeth. “Hey, could you do me a favor? I really appreciate you coming out to check on me, but I gotta get back to that life stuff before it has a chance to get itself into any _more_ trouble. Could you come back later?” 

Tom, being neither suicidal or an idiot, does not need to be told twice. “Absolutely. I’ll call you.” He tells him as he backs away, waving goodbye only once he’s sure it’s safe to do so. Turning, he all but sprints down the concrete stairs and across the street, waiting to stop and catch his breath until he’s absolutely certain he’s out of Shizuo’s damage radius. _Life troubles, huh?_ He thinks, scratching his head. If it were anyone else, he’d think there was a kid involved… but he’s fairly certain the younger man is a virgin, and no sane parent would allow him to come anywhere near something as delicate as a child. _Well, whoever it is that was stupid enough to scribble on Heiwajima Shizuo’s face, may the Lord have mercy on their soul._ Shaking his head, Tanaka Tom heads in the direction of the closest transit center. 

Meanwhile, with his senpai no longer standing outside his front door, there’s nothing to stop a very angry Shizuo from slamming the door behind him even harder than he had before and storming back over to the bathroom. “You think you’re _reaaaal_ funny, don’t you?” He growls, his face red. 

“Aw, Shizu-chan is blushing! Don’t tell me he’s embarrassed?” Izaya taunts, ducking underneath Shizuo’s arm so he can dart out of the bathroom before his fingers have had enough time to wrap around his wrist. “Don’t be, the glasses actually make you look smarter!” 

“I’ll _show_ you embarrassed, you little shit! Come back here!” He snarls, launching himself at the smaller man. Izaya is once more able to dodge -- but only once, because one of his (well, Shizuo’s, technically) pant legs has rolled back down and he is too uncoordinated at the moment not to trip on it. As a result, when Shizuo makes another grab for his wrist, he’s actually able to catch it. “Hah! Gotcha!” He exclaims triumphantly -- right before his heavy forward momentum causes him to crash into the smaller man and send them both sprawling onto the floor, Izaya landing on his back hard enough for the wind to be knocked out of him. Shizuo is just barely able to keep from landing just as hard on top of him, which Izaya is definitely thankful for... he’d like some time to catch his breath before the other man causes him to lose it again. 

“Shit, you okay?” Shizuo asks, his need to give the smaller man a piece of his mind put on a temporary hold while he makes sure the scrawny piece of shit hasn’t gotten himself seriously hurt. 

“Could be worse.” Is the other man’s wheezed reply. “Just gotta… get some air back in my lungs.” 

“So you’re not hurt or anything? Just out of breath?” 

“Well, I’m a little dizzy, but that’s probably related. Why, are you worried about me?” Izaya goes to sit up, only to find a strong hand pushing him back down. 

“Not so fast, flea.” Now that Shizuo’s certain the other man is alright, his anger has been taken off the back-burner. “You’re not getting off that easy.” 

“Oh, come on. It was just a harmless little joke, no need to take it so seriously.” Izaya says dismissively. Unfortunately for him, that just pisses the blonde off even more. 

“Just a harmless joke? That was my goddamn _senpai_ at the door!” 

“I know!” Izaya cackles… though his glee doesn’t last very long, as Shizuo is in no mood to deal with his shit. Wrapping his hand around the brunette’s slender neck, he squeezes just hard enough to remind him who he’s dealing with. 

“I’ve been really, really, really, really, _really, REALLY_ patient with you, flea.” Shizuo says, glaring down at the smaller man. “But I’m about at the edge of my rope here, so it’d be a damn good idea for you to stop acting like a fucking asshole and tell me why the fuck you decided you wanted to draw on my goddamn fucking _face_ \-- and, hell, while we’re at it, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you thought it’d be a good idea to even _touch_ any of the clothes my little brother got me, let _alone_ wear them? This is _my_ apartment, not yours. You don’t get to do whatever the hell you want just because I ain’t awake to stop it!” 

“Well, what the hell was I _supposed_ to do, then? I needed dry clothes to wear, it isn’t _my_ fault you decided to take a nap!” 

“You could have woken me up, and you fucking know it -- but instead of doing _that, you_ decided you wanted to piss me off, instead!” 

“You know that second ‘instead’ was redundant, right? Oh, wait, who am I kidding -- you probably don’t even know what that means. Here, let me tell you: ‘redundant’ means--” Before he can finish, the hand around his throat tightens in warning. 

“There’s only so far you can push me until I snap for real, Izaya. Is that what you want?” He asks, so aggravated that his entire body is trembling from how hard he’s trying not to do just that. He can feel Izaya swallow thickly under his palm… it causes him to do the same, only for an _entirely_ different reason; as frustrated as he is at Izaya for getting into his shit without asking, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look really goddamn fucking adorable wearing his clothes. Still, boundaries are boundaries… and if Izaya isn’t going to respect them, neither will he. “Take these off.” 

“Find me something else to wear, and I will.” 

“Nope, nuh-uh. You don’t get to make deals right now… no, you’re going to take those off and give them to me, and I’m gonna put them and the rest of my clothes in a bag so they’ll be ready to go when we are.” 

“Wait, what the hell am _I_ supposed to wear, then?” Izaya asks indignantly. _”My_ clothes are still wet!” 

“Sucks for you, huh?” He picks himself up off the floor, not even bothering to ask if Izaya wants and/or needs help before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up with him. “Now _strip_ , before _I_ do it _for_ you.” 

“You might not want to do that, it’d be a shame for you to accidentally ruin the gift your precious, precious little brother--” 

“Don’t even _mention_ Kasuka right now, flea -- in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly my favorite person right now.” 

“Of course not, that would be _Kasuka.”_ Izaya retorts, a strange (and not-at-all pleasant) feeling causing his stomach to start churning uncomfortably. “But you know what? Fine.” He surrenders bitterly, yanking the bowtie off so he can drop it unceremoniously onto the floor in front of him. “You can have your stupid clothes back, they were too big for me anyway.” 

It’s such a simple gesture, but to Shizuo, it reads like a declaration of war. The only thing that stops him from immediately trying to strangle the other man to death is the satisfaction of seeing Izaya doing what he wants, the smaller man just having started to unbutton his shirt before he reaches out to stop him. “Wait.” He says, pointing down at Izaya’s lower half. “Those first.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yep. Pants off, flea.” 

“Fucking pervert…” He mutters, turning around so he doesn’t have to look at him as he unbuckles the belt around his waist. He doesn’t want to imagine what kind of expression the beast might have on his face as he sits there watching him undress, getting off on his humiliation like the sadist he is -- he doesn’t _want_ to imagine it, but he does. 

_I take it back... I regret everything._

But what he regrets the most is thinking he even had a _chance_ at out-embarrassing the other man, already so turned on by the beast’s dominating presence that the thought of him seeing his growing erection and taking it as an unspoken invitation is just making it worse. 

_Damn it, why am I such a fucking masochist?_ He asks himself, letting Shizuo’s pants drop to his ankles. _Do I really hate myself that much?_

“Oi, turn around.” Shizuo demands, grabbing the open pack of American Spirits from off the kitchen counter before going back over to the futon and settling down on it. “I wanna see your face.” 

Grimacing, Izaya reluctantly does as he’s told. “I really fucking hate you.” He informs him, his cheeks burning. 

“That’s not what you said when I had you bent over the bathroom sink a little bit ago.” Shizuo responds, grinning when he sees Izaya’s face turn an even darker shade of red. _”Now_ who’s embarrassed, _Iiiizaaya-kun?”_ He mocks smugly. “But I’ll tell you what.” He starts, pushing a cigarette up far enough for him to pull it out of the pack with his lips and light it. “Since you’re being all nice and cooperative, I’ll let you keep the shirt on. How’s that sound?” 

“Shizu-chan is _such_ a gentleman.” Izaya remarks dryly. 

“Sure am. In fact, _because_ I’m such a gentleman, how ‘bout you get down on your knees and show me a little bit of appreciation?” He “suggests”, taking a drag. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you’re not talking about cleaning the floor -- which is absolutely filthy, by the way. When was the last time you swept in here?” 

_”Flea…”_

“Alright, alright, I’m doing it. Don’t be so impatient.” Trying to pretend like he _isn’t_ currently shaking from a strange mix of mild dread and not-so-mild arousal, Izaya kneels in front of Shizuo and reaches down so he can unbutton the other man’s pants and pull them low enough to expose his cock. Shizuo is already throbbing at the thought of his soft lips wrapping around him… and when they finally do, it takes all his willpower not to immediately start bucking into them. 

“That’s right… such a good little flea…” He breathes, putting his cigarette out so he can instead tangle his fingers in the brunette’s soft, dark (yet still slightly damp) hair and guide his face down onto him. Izaya glares up at him, not at all a fan of being talked to like he’s a baby or some sort of house-pet -- but he can’t exactly do anything about it with the other man’s cock sliding down his throat, tears forming in his eyes as he tries desperately to focus his attention on his breathing and not his urge to gag on the damn thing. “So good…” 

_God, I hate him… I really, really, really fucking hate him…_

Using one hand to keep himself steady, Izaya slips the other one in-between his own legs so he can begin to stroke himself. At first, he doesn’t think Shizuo’s noticed… but then a socked foot nudges the hand out of the way just to take its place, the feel of knitted cotton rubbing up against his erection causing him to shudder and groan around the cock he’s still trying very, very hard not to gag on. 

_Hate, hate, hate, hate…_

“Does that feel good?” Shizuo asks, applying just a tiiiiny bit more pressure to his foot’s teasing rubs. Izaya answers by glaring and flipping him off, causing the blonde to grin and grind forward into the other’s warm, wet mouth; a part of him knows he should feel ashamed that he’s even _able_ to get off on this kind of thing, but the part that’s actually in charge right now is too busy enjoying it to actually think about that at the moment. In fact, the only thing he’s _currently_ torn on is whether he should cum on his face or make him swallow it. On the one hand, cumming on his face means he’d be more likely to accidentally get some of his spunk on the clothes his brother gave him… but on the other hand, the thought of seeing Izaya’s annoyingly pretty face covered in his cum is tempting enough for him to be considering it. No matter what he chooses, he’s going to have to do it soon… Izaya has started to pick up the pace, bobbing his head in a rhythm that has Shizuo’s eyes rolling back. 

_Fuck, fuck, FUCK…_

Groaning loudly, Shizuo instinctively presses Izaya’s face down even further at the same time that he bucks up into it, the brunette’s eyes widening in surprise when he feels something gooey and salty-sweet start pouring down his gullet. He has no choice but to swallow the hot liquid, the hand on his head keeping him from pulling away until the beast is finished... only then does he allow him up, Izaya gasping for air the moment his sore mouth and throat have been freed. “God, I… ugh… hate you!” He manages to choke out after a minute or so, scowling up at a particularly smug-looking Shizuo. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure you do.” He says with a smirk, patting his head condescendingly. “Now come up here and sit on my lap.” 

“Why the hell should I?” 

“Well, since you did such a good job at sucking me off, I thought I’d give you a reward.” 

“I don’t _want_ a reward, I _want_ to kill you!” Izaya hisses, despite the fact that what he _actually_ wants is for the other man to put his overwhelmingly powerful hands all over his naked body. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your point of view), Shizuo seems to have no problem reading his mind. 

“Come on, Izaya... I think we both know that a reward is _exactly_ what you want.” Grabbing him by the arm, Shizuo uses it to pull him up and onto his lap. “Though I guess if you wanna be stubborn, I could just tie you up and leave you in the bathroom while I’m packing -- maybe even call Tom and see if he wants to go out for drinks or something. How does that sound?” He asks, running a finger up the inside of one of Izaya’s soft, pale thighs and delighting in the goosebumps that immediately spread across it. 

“You wouldn’t do that.” Izaya argues, his cock now aching more than _ever_ to be touched. “You’re bluffing.” 

“Am I?” Shizuo replies, grinning down at the man currently seated on his groin. He can feel how hard he is… there’s no way in hell the little shit would be able to handle being left alone like this, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to make him think twice about continuing to try and bullshit him. “You sure you wanna make that bet?” 

After a few moments of consideration, Izaya decides that he would, in fact, rather _not_ push his luck. “Fine.” He snaps. “Give me your goddamn reward, then.” 

Shizuo almost wants to say, ‘not until you ask nicely’, but at this point he figures he’s tormented him enough. Leaning in for a kiss, he slips his tongue into the other’s mouth and tastes what’s left of himself as he slowly lays back on the futon, sliding his hands down to Izaya’s hips so he can grip them firmly and pull them towards his face. Having nothing to hold up his upper half, Izaya falls forward over the blonde’s head, his elbows hitting the futon hard enough to send a jolt running through his funny bone. He has no time to recover before he feels Shizuo’s mouth close around him, a groan leaving his lips and his fingers curling into the mattress… it feels so good, he can barely _think_ , let alone breathe. The beast, however, doesn’t seem content with just a blow-job; a second later, Izaya feels one of Shizuo’s fingers slide inside of him, immediately searching for and pushing against his prostate. “Oh god, _fuck...”_ He gasps, the pressure overwhelming him until he’s unable to stop his own climax from cascading over him like a tidal wave. “Oh god, oh god, fuck, god, _fuck!”_

Shizuo happily drinks him down, not stopping either of his ministrations until he’s absolutely sure he’s milked out all of the cum the whimpering man has to give. When he’s finally satisfied, he disconnects with a loud _’smack’_ , giving Izaya a playful slap on the rump before moving him up and off of him. 

_Now that that’s taken care of…_

Stretching up towards the ceiling, Shizuo heads into the kitchen feeling much, much, _much_ better than he had five minutes ago.


	39. Peachy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends. I know this one took a... _particularly_... long time, and for that, I'm sorry... I've just had a lot going on, and I've found it difficult to connect with (or even focus on) my writing. I've actually scrapped and rewritten this chapter several times, and just couldn't get myself to feel satisfied with it. This chapter is short because of that; I didn't want to keep dwelling on it, so I wanted to give you guys what I had so I could go on to the next. I hope you enjoy! Again, sorry for the wait.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Izaya is laying on Shizuo’s futon, still trying to catch his breath after the other man had all but sucked the life out of him only a few minutes before. He feels strange, feels _wrong_ , feels… well, he doesn’t know what it is he feels. All he knows is that he can’t, for the life of him, understand why it’s so difficult for him to just tell the other man _no_. In the beginning it might have been out of a sense of curiosity, a desire to see what would happen if he let the monster have his way (and have his way he did), but now… now it feels like an addiction, a craving, something he knows will only destroy him in the long run but not something he could stop even if he wanted to. 

_God, I’m so fucked up. How did I get like this? It definitely wasn’t my parents’ influence… maybe Shinra? That would make sense, considering he’s the only other person I know that’s ever fallen in love with a monster…_

Letting out a groan of frustration, he rolls over only to find the aforementioned monster looking at him with a concerned expression. “What?” He asks, anxiety starting to build in his gut. 

“You okay?” 

“Just peachy.” 

“Just peachy, huh? Why don’t I believe that?” Shizuo remarks, leaning against his kitchen counter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised. 

“Because you never believe anything I say, Shizu-chan.” 

“I believe you when you’re telling the truth, don’t I?” 

“No, you believe me when you _think_ I’m telling the truth, which is not always when I actually _am_ telling the truth. For all you know, my name isn’t even Izaya. Maybe it’s Yusuke. Or Kasuka! Wouldn’t that be weird? You’d be fucking someone with the same name as your--” 

“I’m gonna stop you before you finish that sentence, flea.” Shizuo warns. 

“Why?” Izaya asks, feigning ignorance. 

“You know damn well why.” 

“Do I?” 

“Yeah, you fucking do! I told you not to fucking mention him, remember?” 

“Mention who, Kasuka?” 

_”Yes,_ Izaya. _Kasuka.”_

“ _Heiwajima_ Kasuka? Your little brother Kasuka? Heiwajima Kasuka, also known as Hanajima--” 

_”Izaya._ Stop. Fucking. _Talking!”_

“What? I’m just trying to make _absolutely sure_ that it _is_ your little brother, Heiwajima Kasuka, also known as Hanajima Yuuhei, that you are, in fact, telling me not to--” 

“God _damn_ it, Izaya!” Shizuo has finally had enough, his patience worn too thin for him to keep holding everything in. Slamming his fist down on the kitchen counter hard enough to break it in half, he has to take deep breaths just to keep himself from trying to strangle the other man; why the _hell_ the little fuck _insists_ on going out of his way to piss him the fuck off, he doesn’t know… but if he doesn’t stop soon, he’s gonna end up biting off _way_ more than he can chew. “I’ve been really, really, really, really, _really_ fucking good at not letting you get to me, but there are limits to my fucking patience and you are _pushing_ them. So I’m gonna give you one more chance to _shut the fuck up_... and it’d be a _damn_ good idea for you to take it.” 

“Yes, well, I haven’t been having a lot of ‘good ideas’ lately, have I?” Izaya retorts, knowing full well it’s a Bad Fucking Idea but being too bitter at both himself _and_ Shizuo to give a shit about the consequences. “I slept with _you_ didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, and you loved every single _second_ of it.” Shizuo responds, clenching and unclenching his fists. He’s pissed -- _oh_ , is he pissed -- but it’s pretty fucking obvious that the little shit is trying to get him to snap, and he’s not really in an accommodating mood at the moment. “Maybe that’s why you’re being such an annoying little brat -- you wanna get me mad so I’ll throw you down and fuck the living daylights out of you again.” 

“Seriously? You think this is about your _dick?”_ Izaya laughs, almost unable to believe his ears. “How the fuck did you come to that conclusion?” 

“Well, it’s either that or a distraction -- and if it’s a distraction, that means there’s something you’re trying to distract _from_. So how ‘bout you tell me what that is instead of acting like a fucking asshole?” Shizuo’s actually surprised he hasn’t blown his top yet -- it feels like forever ago that he was flying off the handle every time someone so much as looked at him funny. 

_Kasuka would be proud._

“I don’t know.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m serious!” Izaya says in exasperation, desperately trying to keep a hold on his emotions… but it’s difficult when he doesn’t even know what his emotions actually _are_. “I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know! I don’t know, and I _want_ to know, because maybe if I did know I could just fucking _fix_ it, but I _don’t._ I just. Fucking. _Don’t!”_

Whether it’s the look in his eyes or the tone of his voice, Izaya isn’t sure -- but he can tell by the way Shizuo sighs and brushes his hands through his hair that he’s managed to get through to him. Lighting the cigarette he’d started earlier, Shizuo takes a long drag before holding it out to the other man. “Alright.” He says, taking a moment to figure out how to word his thoughts. “I won’t push it. Just… can you please just fucking talk to me next time?” 

“Why? What the hell good is it going to do to talk about something I have no knowledge of?” He asks, handing the cigarette back. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry Shizu-chan, but I’m feeling a little ‘I don’t know’ right now?’ How am I supposed to talk about something I can’t even fucking _identify?”_

“I don’t know, Izaya. All I know is that I wanna help you, and you’re making it damn difficult to do that.” 

“I didn’t ask for--” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know you didn’t ask for my help. Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got it.” He takes another drag and passes it back. “Look, I get it’s hard… I haven’t given you a lot of reasons to trust me, yet here I am asking you to do it anyway. I get it. But I’m here, alright? And I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

_We’ll see how long **that** lasts…_ Izaya thinks to himself, ignoring the pang he feels in his heart. Sure, Shizuo may _believe_ he’s not going anywhere… but if there’s one thing Izaya’s good at, it’s alienating people. It’s only a matter of time before he ends up crossing a line and driving the other man away. “Whatever you say, Shizu-chan.” He inhales the nicotine deeply, blowing it in the direction of the ceiling. “Are you almost done? I’m going to die of boredom if I stay cooped up in this sad excuse for an apartment for too much longer.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Shizuo rolls his eyes. “I just got a few more things to grab, then I’m good to go.” Taking the cigarette from Izaya and finishing what’s left of it, he puts it out in the ashtray and heads into his bathroom to gather what’s left of his things.


End file.
